


Through Her Eyes

by mothmanaintshit



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Past Lives, Phone Sex, Porn With Plot, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Slow Burn Romance, Soul Mate AU, Soul mate, Soul-Searching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 20:04:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 46,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4679609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothmanaintshit/pseuds/mothmanaintshit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Soul mate? Significant other, S.O. - whoever they are, as long as they put up with my snoring, we'll get along perfectly." </p><p>Soul Mate AU/Modern AU<br/>Main Pairing: Solavellan {Fen'Harel/Lavellan}<br/>Minor: All Others</p><p>Discontinued.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I’ve been seeing *coughstayinguptil9amreadingsough* a lot of Solavellan AU’s lately and I just his to give it a shot. Kind of took it a step further and made this a...a soul mate AU >__> Something I promised I would never do but...it was a good idea at the time. Be kind to a shattered heart...Solavellan hurts...Everyone is tattooed with a different font/color/etc. with how their backstory, heritage, etc. would be in game [linked at the end of chapter] c: Please, enjoy.
> 
> Main pairing: Solas x Lavellan || All other pairings are minor.

#  **Through Her Eyes**

Ellana sat in her car, staring down at her clenched fists, her knuckles turning white. She was furious, positive her anger could be felt from outside the car with how electric the air around her was, but she shouldn’t be mad. She knew her name wouldn’t show up on his wrist when he walked out of that damned building.

Instead: _**Surana**_.

His first crush in grade school. How they never had gotten together was beyond herself, they still talked to this day – it always irked her. Now she knew why. Her fists unclenched, a hand dipping under her collar and pressing against the back of her neck. Her eyes trailed down to her own tattoo, it’s name meaning nothing to her.  ** _Fen’Harel_** _, hah_. Like anyone would be named after that trickster. But every morning, the name was the same **. _Fen’Harel. Fen’Harel. Fen’Harel_** _._  When the hell was this _**Fen’Harel**_  going to show up? Was Fen’Harel another word for  _life_? Life liked to screw with her —  _Everything_  seemed to screw with her. She let her hand fall back to her lap, looking out the foggy window and listening to the thunder in the distance. 

 _Rain_.

It always seemed to be raining now. Ellana pushed some hair out of her face, turning to her phone as it vibrated in the cup holder. She could see his name blink across the screen, a text.

 _—Cullen [3:05 pm]_  
_im sorry ellana._  
_i thought it would be okay_  
_i thought_ _…  
__i am so sorry_

Ellana snorted, rolling her eyes. With the shake of her head she forced herself to reply. She couldn’t understand why she was hurt... Maybe because for once someone went against the rules? Decided that having a soul mate wasn’t what they needed? They were okay with  _her —_ told her she had nothing to worry about, that no matter what the would walk out of the building and still be with her— but their curiosity got the best of them and they lied. Now she was alone.

 _—Ellana [3:06 pm]_  
_doesn’t matter_  
_we both knew it_ _before you entered_  
_you werent meant for me cullen_ _…  
_ _we both knew_

Ellana bit her lip and locked her phone, unwilling to look at the small animation ‘...’ that popped up as Cullen typed back his reply. She never opened the message, deleting any trace of him from her life was easier than expected, but still unpleasant. It was a good thing she never read the message, she wouldn’t have been okay if she had...

 _—Cullen [3:08 pm]_  
_We can still be friends._

 *** 

Solas raked a hand through his unruly dreads, frowning when his pencil got caught in the bundle of locks. He’ll have to shave it again. It’s been at least twenty, maybe even twenty-one years since he last shaved his hair. With the recent weather, it was getting harder and harder to manage.

 _Something to look forward to_ , he mused, pulling the bitten up pencil out. He looked up from his papers when he heard his office door click, his most recent client walking into his office. She was soaked head to toe, her usual unruly curls falling flat against her head, her eyes tired and sunk-in. Her usually earrings missing on her scarred ears, wondering if she purposefully forgot them. The earrings were a trademark of hers. Shining Blue Lyrium, even with all her curls you could see them. She looked like she just walked through a hurricane. Was is that bad outside?

“Tab-”

“I know!” She spoke immediately, cutting him off, her hands raised, “I’m sorry,  _Lethallin_. There is no excuse for my tardiness.” She pulled off her coat and frowned, realize how drenched she really was. Her cheeks tinted as she caught sight of her friend’s smirk, his hand trying hard to cover his mouth.

“ _Shut up._ ” Tabris spoke quietly, throwing her jacket on the coat hanger. She purposefully set it atop of his, her own smirk forming when she saw the annoyed look on his face. His eyes caught site of a new tattoo, vines sticking out from under her collar. He watched her as she trudges over to him, the sound of her wet boots squeaking against the wooden floor worried him. Her socks had to be soaked. She sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk and leaned forward on her knees, her fingers clasping together as she watched him. Her eyes hopeful. 

_Please let it be good news._

“How far?” She asked. Solas frowned, looking down at his papers. Tabris could tell from how bitten down the pencil in his hand was that this wasn’t good news.

“Are they at least alive?” Solas sighed, leaning back against his chair, “There are...  _many_  Theirin’s. To narrow down the search would be nearly impossible. I—” Solas hesitated, seeing the flash of sorrow in his friend's eyes, “... I can give you the list but there are over a hundred—”

“I  _want_  the list.” Tabris spoke, confident. Solas took a deep breath, biting at the wooden part of his pencil again. Tabris wasn’t like the other client’s he’s helped. Most just wanted to get it over with. Find their  _soul mate_  and move on, live happily ever after in ignorant bliss. But Tabris had other reasons, none for the sake of her own personal gain. The Theirin’s were a wealthy family across Thedas. Human, noble, untainted with elf blood. He worried for her, the first elf to ever be matched with a human noble for centuries.

Solas took a deep breath, his mouth opening—

“Please, Solas.” Tabris moved forward in her chair, reached her hand out and placing it over his. He caught sight of her tattoo’s wrist. The name  _ **Therein**_ was scribbled horribly, almost like a child, the name still showing up no matter how many times she cut her skin or scribbled and tattooed over the name. “I— I know this could get you in trouble, I just...”

“I know.” Solas spoke after a long pause, nodding to himself. He pulled his hand away and sorted through some papers on his desk, “I’ll give you the two I suspect is your significant other—” He caught sight of Tabris’ smile when he said with word, a small understanding between them. Neither liked the word  _soul mate_. Set in stone. They weren’t people of tradition. “—maybe even the top five... Call me when you deiced you are going to met them. I— I just want you safe.”

Tabris couldn’t hide her smile, “ _Ma melava halani_ ,  _lethallin_ ,  _ma serannas_.”

***

Ellana curled up on her couch, the side of her head resting against the leather cushions as she read through her favorite book;  _Lives of the Past Masters_ by _F.H. Solas._

The book was about past lives, how our souls go through life with the same people over and over again – but completely different than before. She could have been a dwarf in a past life, her S.O. a human, qunari, anything really… she wouldn’t know. Few are granted the memories of their past lives. Solas added some dialogue from interviews he’s taken over the years, few of the dialogue when even when he was being interviewed. Her favorite page, three-sixty-five, spoke about his own search for his soul mate. 

 

> _(…) I never completely believe in the system we have. Who is to decide who we love, who we choose to spend the rest of our lives with, but ourselves? I would like to think that my significant other thinks the same, if they do not, so be it. As long as they can tolerate my snoring, we’ll do just fine. (…) Yes. Yes, I have helped over hundreds—thousands maybe, inducing the other souls, but finding my other half isn’t as easy. (…) It would be simple enough to say ‘If so-and-so is reading this book, you are my significant other.’ But what would be the fun of that? (…) I traveled a lot in my twenties, searching for my significant other across Thedas – even traveled into Tevinter for a brief time – anywhere I knew my S.O.’s name (past or present) had been before. (…) No, I was not lucky. Almost died in Tevinter. A cause of mistaken identity but scary enough for me to reconsider going back. (...) Clues are everywhere. We see them everyday. We just don’t realize it. The first crush you had in grade school, that first kiss, first anything really, even the last anything, that could have sealed your fate – and your S.O.’s as well. (…)_

Ellana had read this book a million times, obvious from the wear and tear from the spine, the little sticky notes she added as her own ideas of past lives. She hated that this was the only book he ever wrote, and often wondered if he ever planned on writing another. Whether or not this was fact or fiction, it felt real enough to her to make sense of all the soul mate bullshit she dealt with daily. She carried this book everywhere, and her friends mocked her  _constantly_  about it.

“For someone who calls all this  _bullshit_ , you sure love to read about past lives  _and_  soul mates.” Her friend, Dorian, chimed in once, pulling the book from her hands to study it.

“ _Because_ ,” Ellana quickly grasped it, shoving it in her bag, “It speaks more about how everyone is connected, not just by tattoo’s or sex, but by stardust and—”

“ _Someone’s_  been hitting up the elfroot again.” Krem walked up behind her, pretending to smoke a blunt — earning him a elbow to the stomach — before setting down Ellana's steaming cup of tea. Ellana stuck her tongue out and glared up at her friend.

“Not so loud.” She hissed, looking around the nearly empty cafe.   
  
“Uh-huh.” Krem rolled his eyes and took the other empty chair between Ellana and Dorian.

“Back to the book—” Ellana was cut off by Dorian.

“Yes, I would love to hear more about pixie dust and fairies.” He leaned forward on the table, shooting a mocking smile at Ellana.

“ _Stardust_.” Ellana flicked her friends nose, shaking her head, “No  _fairies_.” 

“And like that, you’ve lost my interest.” Dorian leaned back in his chair, his eyes roaming down to his empty foam cup.

“I just don’t get the interest.” Krem shrugged, looking down at his own newly tattooed wrist. The name  ** _Trevelyan_** printed neatly over his skin. He had gone to  _The Search_  little than two weeks ago, coming out with a name and no idea whose face it belonged to, “I’m not too interested to find out who is behind the name.”

“This book isn’t just about the history that started  _The Search_ ,” Ellana pulled out the book again, looking down at it, “It’s about the journey others before us have taken to find their soul mate. Making friends in unusual places, saving damsels, kicking ass and—”

“Showing how no matter what you do in life: you die, are reborn, and have to start the search all over?” Dorian grumbled, glaring down at his own wrist. He had two tattoos’. One almost completely burned off and the other written in bold but thinned out letters. Dorian spoke little of the name that was tattooed before, finding out only three years’ prior that his father had tipped the balanced and blackmailed the Tevinter Government to give him the wrong name. He had been with the women for almost 4 years before finding out the truth. She had never met the woman, and during that time Dorian was a mess. As soon as he found out the truth, he was called back to Tevinter to get the correct name branded on him. Whoever that woman was...  
  
Ellana frowned, looking down at her own sleeve. As much as she wanted to believe that maybe she would be misprinted, Dorian’s father was ruthless. She knew she had to have been paid a handsome sum of money to agree to what Dorian’s father asked of her. Ellana looked at Dorian, his eyes still glaring at his wrist.  ** _Kalamnan_** was the new name he had been given. Which did him little to no good. His search being just as unsuccessful as her own, so far. Krem tried to lighten the mood, making a snarky remark about her obsession with the book, and soon Dorian chimed in. They embarrassed the shit out of her.

“You two will never understand.” Ellana sighed, rolling her eyes at the pair. And the truth is they wouldn’t, not until they at least tried to read the book  _or_  talk to Solas. Which they never would. She doesn’t even think she would ever send him fan mail, no matter how much she loved his work. Ellana covered her mouth as she yawned, tearing her eyes from the book to look at the digital clock next to her TV.

**4:15 am**

_Damn_ , she looked back down at her book and contemplated continuing. She shook her head and pulled out her torn up book from under her thigh and set it in the book. She got up, setting the book on the coffee table and shutting off the small lamp behind her, walking to her room. 

***

Ellana woke to loud banging against her door, cursing from under her pillow and praying to the Creators that whoever the hell was at her door would get the message and—

“Open up, Ellana!” Her could hear her friends yell. She cursed, knowing that the landlord would have her head if she ignores them, and quickly got up. She shuffled out of her room and to the door, unlocking it. Dorian opened the door quickly, Krem, Sera and Isabela following, loudly, behind.

“Good news, Peaches!” Dorian flew across her living room, jumping from one place to another as Ellana shut the door behind the others. She said 'hello' to the others, asking if they needed anything to let her know or just raid her fridge themselves — which they did instantly.

“You’re bouncing.” Ellana took notice, a small frown on her face as Dorian picked up her book and walked over to her.

“I got him!” Dorian raised the book in front of her face, the smile only growing as Ellana stared quizzically between the book and himself.

“Got 'him'?  _Who's 'him'_?”

“Elfy elf!” Sera called from the kitchen, “Where’s the cereal?”

“Cabinet above the fridge.” Ellana looked over her shoulder, cringing when she heard something crash.

“Nothing broke!” Krem called out quickly, easing her nerves little.

“Solas! The man you’ve been speaking about since I met you!” Dorian chuckled and opened the book, flipping through the pages, “He just finished the last client! I had Varric make a call and he spoke to the man about how he knew someone—” Dorian poking Ellana's cheek, laughing, “—that is a  _big_  fan. We’ve got all twelve slots and he is going to help us find our S.O’s!”

Ellana's voice caught in her throat, “Y— You... He...  _what_?”   
  
_Did he just say…?_

“He’s agreed to see us at one and—”

“One?” Ellana shrieked, looking over at digital clock next to her TV.   
  
**11:56 am.**

“I have to get ready!” Ellana ran to her room, getting her things ready for a shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to [tattoos](http://asexualallura.tumblr.com/post/127823183129/im-working-on-a-solavellan-soulmate-auwith)


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re an ass.” Lavellan muttered as she stared at Dorian through the mirror in her bathroom. The man smiled, a small shrug as he leaned against the door frame. Lavellan rolled her eyes and turned her eyes back to herself, checking to make sure her hair didn’t look like a wreck, her make-up was in place and her clothes weren’t too wrinkled.

“I think I did you a favor.” Dorian smiled, pulling down on his shirt collar, “If I told you the actual time, you wouldn’t have rushed—  and look at that! It’s one-thirty and now we can leave for the correct appointment time.”

Lavellan took once last look at herself in the mirror, a small frown, “You— You don’t think it’s too much?”

“Peaches,” Dorian pushed off of the door frame and walked towards her, looking at them in the mirror, “He’ll be looking at me more than you.” Lavellan snorted and leaned up, messing up her friend’s hair. Dorian gasped and caught Lavellan’s wrists before she did more damage.

“ _Now_  who’s the ass!”

* * * 

“The others are meeting us there?” Lavellan asked as her and the others piled into Dorian’s SUV. Lavellan sat in the back with Sera and Krem, Dorian and Isabela sitting in the front. Dorian nodded and started the SUV, heading out of the parking garage.

"Varric said he would be bringing  _what's-his-face_." Sera said, wiping some fog off the window.

"Cole?" Lavellan looked at Krem for confirmation.

"Varric said it was worth a shot. Maker knows how much time and effort and money he's put into finding out who  _ **Mahariel**_  is." Krem pulled a leg to his chest, resting his elbow against the small dip next to the window.

Lavellan hummed, "Anyone else?"

"I think so." Isabela sighed, shaking her head, "Varric spoke about adding Fenris and Merrill to the group, since we all have the same names. I don't know if he succeeded or not though. Fenris has been having a rough week... he might not agree to it. Merrill on the other hand…" A smile forced its way on Isabela’s face, “Maker, she’s always happy to learn who this  ** _Hawke_**  could be.”

Lavellan watched as Isabela's eyes fell to her own tattoo. Both her, Merrill and Fenris shared the same name,  _ **Hawke**_ , but in completely different fonts and colors. Isabela’s was more neat, cursive, the baby blue shinning against her dark skin. Where Fenris’ was a bolder, written text. Dark green shinning inside the edges of the white text. Merrill’s was sharp, almost scary compared to how she was. Lavellan often wondered how there would be so many variations of the name Hawke. There weren't a lot of Hawke's from with Lavellan heard. She really hoping Solas could help her friends. They need to know who their soul mate is more than she did.

* * *

Solas worked out of a studio, much to Lavellan’s surprise, she always assumed he worked out of The Search building or at least was connected to them in some way. In all of his interviews, he never disclosed whether or not he worked with or for The Search.   
  
_Maybe it’s a good thing_ , Lavellan thought as Dorian parked the car.

“Varric said he was meeting us here, right?” Lavellan asked as her friends pilled out of the car, quickly running for cover from the rain.

“He’ll be here.” Krem said once they stood under cover in front of the studio, “I’m sure he’s just rallying up the others.”

“We should at least let this Solas know we’re here.” Dorian said as he turned to the door, and frowned when it wouldn’t open. Sera groaned, shaking her hair furiously to get the water off.

“ _Shite_.” She hissed frowning down at her clothes, “Get the bloody door open already!”

“I’m trying.” Dorian mumbled, pulling on the handle. Lavellan rolled her eyes and pushed the other door, raising an eyebrow at her friend.

“It says  _push_.” Lavellan smirked as Dorian huffed, walking through with the others. Lavellan stared in awe at the studio, she had no idea Solas was a painter — a  _magnificent_  one at that. Her friends made comments behind her as they walked deeper into the studio, Sera and Isabela mocking some while Dorian and Krem mumbled awe-struck curses in Tevene. She mumbled a few words in her own language as she walked up to a wall, freshly painted. Fresco. Some of the brushes still laid on an idle table, a ladder leaned against the adjacent wall, parts of the floor still covered in tarp.

She wanted to reach out and touch the painting, but knew better than to disturb the paint. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin the best artwork she has ever seen. It depicted an old elven tale, The Great Betrayal, or at least a part of it. Perhaps Solas would continue the story on the rest of the bare walls, she would love to see more of it.

“May I help you?” A voice sounded behind her. Lavellan turned around startled, her foot slipping on the tarp. Lavellan’s eyes were shut, her face scrunched as fell, oblivious to the fact that the person who had caught her in the room had caught her. The figure chuckled, causing Lavellan to open her eyes, as he brought her to stand straight. She flushed and averted her eyes, stammering an apology. Her fingered twiddled with her messenger bags slash, her face flushed.

“No harm was done.” He said, smiling down at her, but she still did not meet his gaze.

“Yes,” She cleared her throat, turning her head to look at the fresco, “I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I ruined the painting. Creators know how long that must have taken him.”

“Taken  _me_.” He crossed his arm, his eyes flicking up towards the painting before returning to her, “And I could care less if the painting had been disrupted. I am just glad you were not injured.”

“I— I—” Lavellan finally met his gaze, her voice caught in her throat.   
  
_Solas_.

“There you are!” Dorian sounded behind Solas, the other in tow behind him. Varric had joined the party, bringing Fenris, Cole, and Merrill with him.

“Ah,” Solas turned around, placing his hands behind his back, “Master Tethras.”

Varric groaned, rubbing the back of his neck, “I thought I told you not to call me that, Chuckles.”

Solas smiled, offering a hand, “And I thought I told you not to call me that.”

Varric chuckled and shook the writers hand, “Fair enough.”

“Come.” Solas motioned for them to follow, looking back at Lavellan quickly. He noticed how she lingered in the back, her eyes flickering from painting to painting they passed. He noticed her faded Vallaslin, compared to the other elf whose Vallaslin was still bright against her pale skin. Solas’ office was in the back of the studio, much to Lavellan’s enjoyment. The painting this man made were extraordinary.

“You’d think with all the research you’ve done on this man, you’d know his could paint.” Dorian commented once they entered his office. Lavellan glared and nudged him with her elbow, shushing him as Solas passed the group. There were enough seats in the office for them all, Lavellan stayed in the back of the group. She silently watched as Solas started to speak, leaning back on his desk with his arms crossed. He was tall for an elf, Lavellan noticed.

“—start with, Master Tethras.” Solas stood up straight and held his hand out to the dwarf. Varric grumped, “Of course you’d start with me.” But pulled off his glove and rolled up his sleeve, showing off the delicate tattoo that was almost too perfect to be on his rough skin.

“ _Pentaghast_.” Solas nodded to himself and gave Varric back his arm, reaching over his desk and picking up a small note book and pen. “Thankfully the Pentaghast’s are a well known family in Nevarra. Though the Pentaghast’s are very wide spread, it should not be  _too_  difficult to find your significant other.”

He set the note pad down as Varric spoke, “Lucky for you the next three will be easy. They all have the same names.” Merrill and Isabela inched closer, showing their tattoo’s to Solas, while Fenris just glared at the man.

“Come on, Broody.” Varric mumbled, nudging the elf, “It won’t hurt to try.” Fenris, reluctantly, held his arm out, glaring at the ground.   
  
Solas raised an eyebrow intrigued, “Fascinating.” He wrote down  _ **Hawke**_  and collected their names.

“My turn?” Cole sat behind Varric, his eyes hidden behind his hair. Lavellan couldn’t help but smile, knowing that Cole was positively beside himself on the inside. Cole had been the one who would Google all night in search of this  ** _Mahariel_** , only to go into a state of silence when — yet again — he found nothing. Whoever this  _ **Mahariel**_  was, they left no imprint on the internet — or anywhere, really.

“Go on, Kid.” Varric nodded, hiding his own amusement as Cole stood up straight and extended his arm over Varric.

“Elven.” Solas mumbled to himself, lightly tracing the faded purple text, “ _Mahariel_.”

“I might actually be able to help with that!” Merrill squeaked and quickly apology for cutting in, “My clan has had member of the Mahariel lineage. I've tried to help Cole, but whoever has his name isn't speaking to the clan's Keeper any longer.”

“Would you mind giving me your Keepers information before leaving?” Solas asked, nodding for Cole to sit down as he reached for his pen and paper.   
  
“Of course!” Merrill smiled, patting the top of Cole’s hand.

“Guess it’s my turn.” Krem mumbled, showing his own tattoo to Solas.

“ _Trevelyan_. Much like Pentaghast, it is well known and thankfully a small family. Will be easier than Pentaghast… might be the first one I can find compared to the others so far.” Solas wrote down the name and took Krem’s name as well.

“Let’s get this over with.” Sera sighed, leaned forward and extending her arm between Dorian and Krem.

“ _Qunlat_?” Solas tilted his head and sat the notebook down on the desk. He reached for Sera’s arm and lightly traced over the bold text. Wow.

“ _Shite_. Really?” Sera said, her voice thick with awe. Her eyes widened down at the text, “Never saw the women before.  _Woof_.”

“Women?” Solas smiled, letting go of her arm and turning back to his notebook, “That answers one of my later questions.”

“Do me!” Dorian couldn’t wait any longer, standing up and extended his arm proudly.

“ _Kalamnan_.” Solas tilted his head at Dorian’s wrist, his eyebrows raised, “Is this Qunlat...  _again_?” Solas set his notebook down, the pen falling quickly after and reached for Sera’s arm again, comparing the two tattoos. Sera didn’t protest, still in shock over her wildest dreams coming true. Her friends all knew her fascination with the Qunari, more so with the women.

“ _Remarkable_. I haven’t had any matchings with a Qunari significant other yet. This will be interesting to say the least!” Solas let go of both of their wrist, turning to his desk and writing a few things down. Dorian couldn’t hide his excitement, a genuine smile on his face. Sera, on the other hand, couldn’t pull away from the man quicker. A hidden wonder behind her eyes and as turned to the  _ **Adaar**_  tattoo, but hidden well behind the other chaos. Lavellan still hid behind her in the corner next to Sera, scared.   
  
Solas has been able to help almost everyone who has ever walked in this office. All her friends were merely months away from knowing the face behind the names but Lavellan wasn’t as optimistic as they were. Did she even want to know who her significant other was? She admits, she was always curious, who wouldn’t be? But seeing Solas just made it all the more frightening. In a year, give or take, she could be standing face to face with Fen’Harel —  _would_  be standing face to face with Fen’Harel. She spent  _years_  trying to find this man, wasting money she didn’t have, angering her family, her old friends… Could she look at Fen’Harel and not feel anger? Why weren’t they trying to find her? Did they not care about whoever Lavellan was?

“Do you by any chance know what it means?” Dorian asked, knocking Lavellan from her thoughts.

“Muscle.” Solas nodded, standing up straight and turning back to the group.   
  
Dorian looked over his shoulder at Lavellan and motioned to his wrist, “ _Muscle_.” Lavellan hummed, looking down at the book she took out from her messenger bag. _I don’t think I can do this_. Lavellan was ready to get up and run, not even caring if she left behind her things or had to run across town to get back to her apartment. It was too real, happening too quickly.   
  
_I should—_

“What about you?” Solas fixed his attention to Lavellan, “You  _are_  the main reason I agreed to take on this group.” Lavellan turned her head down, her hand clasping around her covered wrist. A part of her was hoping Dorian had lied to her about that— she had  _really_  hoped. She shot a glance at Varric, who gave her an encouraging smile, motioning with his head towards Solas.

“You should do it.” Cole spoke quietly behind Varric, his blue eyes shinning behind his hair.

“Come on.” Dorian turned in his seat and placed his hand on her shoulder, “Varric worked so hard to get us this opening. It wouldn’t hurt to at least try, yes?” Lavellan sighed, turning her head to Solas. She stood up and held her hand out, the other holding the book against her chest, letting Solas push her sleeve up to read the tattoo.

“ _Fen_...  _Fen'Harel_?” Solas spoke, slowly, his brows furrowing.   
  
_No, this must be a mistake_.   
  
He cleared his throat. “When... When were you …?” He lost his train of thought, his fingers ghosting over the slightly faded text.

“Seventeen years ago.” Lavellan mumbled, frowning, “My parents were...  _adamant_  on me getting started on  _The Search_  early.” Lavellan hummed, feeling Sera lightly poke the side of her thigh. A comforting touch, at least for Sera.

“And  _your_  name?” Solas finally peeled his eyes away from the tattoo, his stormy blue ones meeting her shining gold ones, “Varric, uh,  _failed_  to mention it last night. My apologies.”

“He would.” She couldn’t help but smile, turning her head to look at Varric, “ _I_  apologize for  _his_  bad manners.”

“I might have  _accidentally_  left it out.” Varric had mischief in his eyes, shrugging. Lavellan rolled her eyes and turned back to Solas.

“La— Lavellan.” Her voice changed, feeling a small surge of electricity pass between them after the first syllable. She broke eye contact and looked down at his fingers, her breath hitching as felt another surge of electricity, “Ellana... Lavellan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly not all too happy with this chapter... I've had a rough week, this was supposed to be uploaded a couple days ago but... ah, never mind. The next chapter will hopefully be uploaded on Friday, though i don't completely know because of the new DLC coming out tomorrow... We'll just see c: Let me know what you think in the comments!


	3. Chapter 3

Lavellan sat with the others again, near the back of the small group, listening intently as Solas spoke of the steps he would take to find their soul mates — or as he called them: Significant Others. He told a small story before he started, speaking about some of his travels in finding his own S.O. Isabela asks if he had found his soul mate yet. A flirtatious smile and a wink towards the man made Lavellan inwardly cringe. She wanted to crawl into a hole and hide — she told her friends  _everything_  already and after seven years of listening to her go on about the book, you’d think they would remember her favorite part. He made eye contact with her then and her heart skipped a beat, her breath stuck in her throat.

“Not yet.” He spoke softly. The room was full of electricity she had never felt it before. Her arms brought the book closer to her chest — she forgot how to breath. “But I don’t think I have to look much longer.”

 _Did it suddenly get hot in here?_    
  
Lavellan kept eye contact, almost afraid to look away in fear that he would never look at her again. His eyes were captivating, reminded her of a storm — piercing, electric, dark and bright and beautifully terrifying. Solas started speaking again, going on about the process of what he will do, what he will ask, any information they can relay about their life that might help him, and, of course, he volunteered Varric to speak first. He gave the others options to find food in the small kitchen he had in the front of the studio. Lavellan quickly getting up and practically running outside.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you run faster.” Dorian found Lavellan outside, leaning back on a covered wall. Lavellan stayed silent, staring out at the falling rain. She could barely see the parked cars.

“Not everything you expected?” Dorian leaned against the wall next to her, crossing his arms. His tone was laced with worry, even if he tried to play it off as nothing. Lavellan didn’t know what to say. Something was so  _familiar_  with Solas, she couldn’t place it. It must be because she has read so much about him through the years.

“Hey.” Dorian pushed himself off the wall and tilted his head at her, “What’s the matter?”

“I… I don’t know.” Lavellan mumbled, running a hand through her hair, “There is just something so…  _infuriatingly_  familiar about Solas, I— I don’t know. I might just be overthinking it.”

Dorian chuckled, relaxing back on the wall, “Think you met him in one of those past lives your talking about?” Lavellan kept her mouth shut, her fingers gripping at her messenger bag strap.   
  
 _Maybe._

* * *

Solas sat behind his desk as Lavellan walked into his office. The last of the group and he could tell she was just as nervous as he was.   
  
Could he hide himself for long?   
  
Lavellan shut the door behind her once Cole walked out and took the vacant seat across from his desk, her fingers clutching her book tightly. Solas smiled when he looked at the book, hiding his amusement behind one hand and motioning to the book with the other.

“From the wear and tear I gather you’ve read the book a million times over.” Lavellan flushed, looking down at the book.

“M— More than just that, I’m sure. I’ve even added a few of my own idea’s on past lives.” She mumbled, opening the book and flipping through the warn pages. Solas caught sight of a sticky note on nearly every page she passed, his eyebrows raising in astonishment on how much she actually has considered the idea of past lives.   
  
 _Her friends do not feel the same_ , he thought as he eyed her slowly forming smile.  _Odd_.

“What kind of of idea’s?” He asked, leaning back in his chair offering her a warm smile. Lavellan looked at Solas through her eyelashes, her mouth went dry.   
  
She looked back down at her book, her mouth slightly hung open, “I— I just… I…”

“It’s alright.” Solas nodded, leaning forward and placing his arms on his desk, “I understand some can be nervous in front of the person they admire.” Lavellan smiled, a small laugh fell from her lips. Solas looked down at his notebook and turned the page.

“Why don’t we begin with your sexuality?”

“Sex—  _Sexuality_?” Lavellan coughed, a blush creeping up her neck and the tips of her ears, “T— That’s… you  _really_  need to know that?” If Solas did try to hide his amusement, he didn’t try very hard. The blush only grew onto Lavellan’s face as Solas chuckled.

“For all intensive purposes, yes. It would help narrow down who I will be looking for immeasurably.” Solas continued to smile softly, resting his chin in his palm and looking back at Lavellan.

Lavellan rubbed the back of her neck and cleared her throat, “The others… They answered this?”

Solas hummed, nodding, “Some in more details than others. I would have preferred just to hear what they were attracted to, not what they liked doing to whom they desired.” Lavellan couldn’t help but laugh, already knowing it was most likely Varric and Sera who yanked on Solas’ chains. Solas’ ears twitched at Lavellan’s laugh, his eyes moving from his notebook to her smile.

“You won’t get that from me.” She relaxed, her hands falling nicely on the book on her lap as she answered, “I’m pansexual… which will not help you in the least.”

Solas pursed his lips and nodded, writing down some notes, “Truly.”

“And what of you?” Lavellan asked, her head tilting slightly to the left.

“Me?” Solas looked up from his notebook, confused. “Why?”

“My apologies if it was too straight forward.” Lavellan raised her hands, “I just thought it would be far. Here I’m going to be answering all these personal questions and get nothing in return.”

“You get your other half.” He leaned back in his chair, setting his pen down.

“Will they show up the second I’m done answering your questions?” Lavellan crossed her legs, leaning back in her chair and moving the book into her messenger back.

“It is a possibility.” Solas smirked, leaning his head back and crossing his arms, “But you will not find out until you answer my questions,  _da’len_.”

“Okay,  _hahren_.” Lavellan rested her chin in her palm, “Ask your questions.”

* * *

“That wasn’t so bad.” Lavellan admitted once Solas finished questioning her. The questions were more invasive than she would have thought, but none touched a territory which she wouldn’t go into.

“I am glad you thought so.” Solas shut his notebook, his eyes sparking with curiosity. Lavellan turned her body to the door, frowning.

“What are you doing?” Solas questioned her, standing up from his desk.

“You said it was a possibility they could walk in after we finished.” Lavellan looked back at Solas. Solas chuckled and walked around his desk, leaning back against it once he was in front of Lavellan.

“Do you have any questions for me,  _da’len_?”

Lavellan looked down in thought, “I have…  _many_.”

“The book, I assume.” Solas smiled, crossing his arms. Lavellan turned her body back around and picked up her book, nodding, “None that can’t be answered in time. But for now, I just wish to ask one.” Solas nodded and motioned for her to continue.

“What happened to your significant other?” Lavellan looked up at Solas, a sad smile on her face, “You talked about all the adventures you went on, all the places you visited, all the trouble you got into… but you never mentioned them. I understand why you never did — imagine finding your name in a book and thinking ‘ _that was too easy_ ’.”

Solas chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “That would be too easy, yes, but that is not why I never added her.”

“ _Her_.” Lavellan smiled, “One question has been answered than.”   
  
The tips of Solas’ ears tinted pink as he nodded, “Yes, her. I did not add her because I took into account the possibilities of her not wanting her personal affairs to be publicized. Like you said: Imagine finding your name in a book.”

Lavellan slowly nodded, pursing her lips and looking back down at the book. “That was really sweet.”

“ _Ma serannas_.” Solas said, his eyebrows raising slightly in surprise.

“Any chance you could tell me her name?” Lavellan mumbled, averting her eyes from the elf, “For...  _scientific purposes_.”

Solas chuckled, standing up straight. “Scientific purposes? That is one I have not heard before.”

Lavellan smiled and stood up, extending her arm. “Thank you for your time today,  _hahren_. It was a pleasure.”

Solas smiled and shook her hand. “The pleasure was mine,  _da’len_. You and the others are free to go; I have all I need today.”

“More questions in the future?” Lavellan asked, her hand moving back to embracing her book.

“Always.” Solas nodded, offering her a smile as she turned to leave.

“Ah, wait,” Solas turned to his desk, picking up his notebook and writing something quickly down while walking over to her, “I wanted to give you my number.” He tore the paper out and offered it to her.

“Your number?” Lavellan raised an eyebrow, looking down at the paper as she took it.

“For anymore  _scientific_  questions you have.” 

“ _Ma serannas_ ,  _hahren_.” Lavellan smirked, tucking the paper in her book and nodding to Solas. She turned to the door and opened it, “I will let you know if anymore questions need answers.”

“I await your questions,” Solas smiled at her as she exited, leaving him alone in his office, “And our next meeting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forever salty about Trespasser


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait until Friday (the original schedule) to upload this, but I'm just so happy with this chapter that I said eff' it c: Believe it or not there is one Trespasser Spoiler in this. Nothing that screams “I JUST RUINED EVERYTHING FOR YOU” but I just thought I should be fair and warn you c: enjoy

_—Unknown [9:21 am]  
_ _scientific question for you  
_ _whats an accepted fact you find a hard time believing?_

Solas raised an eyebrow at the text. Lavellan sure doesn’t wait long. He had wondered if the first text he received from her would be a scientific question, it seems he was correct; to an extant. He furrowed his brows as he thought.  _A fact I find hard to believe?_  He shifted onto his stomach in his bed and tucked the pillow under his chin, typing a reply.

_—Solas [9:22 am]  
_ _That this is meant to be a scientific question._

_—Unknown [9:22 am]  
_ _well_ _someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning_

Solas pursed his lips and looked next to him. His laptop laid where he usually slept, as did mass quantities of notebooks and scattered papers.

_—Solas [9:22 am]  
_ _You are not entirely wrong, da'len.  
_ _As for your question,_ _I find it hard to believe that nugs have tiny hands for feet._

* * *

_“Emma lath.” Everything hurt, her vision blurry. Shades of green, gold and blues hued the area, a figure walking towards her. Everything was so loud, but her voice so clear. Was it her voice? It was. “Var lath vir suledin.” The figure knelt down before her, their fingers lighting pushing hair from her sweat soaked face._

_“I wish it could, vhenan.” A man voice and another scream from herself. Creators, what was happening? Another yell erupted from her, she felt his finger twitch on her cheek, his voice was straining, “My love…” Warmth pressed against her lips and hands cupped her cheeks. Another shot of pain made her cry out once he pulled away. He stood, the pain slowly fading, the rest of her senses with it._

_“I will **never**  forget you.”_

Lavellan screamed as she awoke, falling from her bed and hitting her forehead on the nightstand.   
  
 _The fuck_ _—?_  
  
Lavellan didn’t have much time to think as her phone alarm went off, signaling the start of her night. Lavellan took a shaky breath and pushed herself up, frowning at the small patch of blood on the edge of her nightstand.

“Great.” She grumbled, pushing herself off the floor. She picked up her phone to shut off the alarm before throwing it back on her bed and heading into her bathroom. She cringed at her forehead, there’s no way this wouldn’t leave a scar, even if it was small. Lavellan’s frown deepened as she thought of her dream. She shut her eyes and placed her hands on the edge of her sink, her head pounding. She’s never had a dream like that before…   
  
Does it mean something? 

* * *

Lavellan ran a hand through her hair, glaring down at the empty liquor bottles she placed on the bar. It shouldn’t be this hard to twirl the damn bottles, more so since they are empty, but Lavellan’s mind was occupied and everywhere but where it needed to be at the moment — focusing on work. Instead, her dream plagued her mind. What the hell did she just dream? She sighed, picking up a bottle and started twirling it in her palm.

“You sure you want to work tonight?” Isabela walked towards her, a worried look on her face, “That head wound— not looking too great, neither is your skin.” Lavellan stopped twirling the bottle and looked down at her palm. She’d be lying if she hadn’t noticed her skin paling since waking up, she wasn’t feeling all that great either.

“I’m fine.” Lavellan mumbled, her attention returning to the bottle. She saw the frown deepen on Isabela’s face but the women did not persist. She turned away, walking to the door and shifting the ‘closed’ sign to ‘open’.

“Let me know if you need to go home.” As Isabela spoke Lavellan felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket, “I’m just gonna have someone on back up, alright? I know Krem will be here for his shift soon but I want someone else on stand-by… just in case.”

Lavellan nodded, setting the bottle down and pulling out her phone, she sighed as she replied to Isabela, “Fair enough.”

_—Sera [10:32 pm]  
_ _Elfy elf call me_

Lavellan pursed her lips and dialed her friends number, bringing the phone up to her ear as she turned away from the bar and started pulling out glasses.

“What’s up?” Lavellan asked, setting the glasses on the bar behind her.

“ _Dorian and I are sneaking into the theater. You in?_ ” 

“I have work tonight, remember?” Lavellan couldn’t help but smile, “I’m free this Saturday though. We can sneak into  _Halamshiral_  and fuck with their paintings again.”

Lavellan’s offer was left with Sera’s trademark laugh, ending in a loud ‘pffft’, “ _Ooh, you are magnificent, elfy. See ya Saturday._ ”

“Say 'hi' to Dorian for me.” Lavellan said quickly before Sera hung up. Lavellan let the phone fall from her shoulder, catching it and locking the phone before tucking it back into her pocket. She heard the door open and soon the bar was packed. Lavellan was shocked at how little were here, even if it was a weekday night. Her stomach dropped as a new figure entered the bar, someone she was hoping to not see for at least a couple more months. Krem shot her a glance as Cullen took a seat at the bar. She shook her head before heading over to Cullen.

“You never replied to my text, Ellana.” Cullen said, his voice low, “I was worried— what happened to your head?”

“Didn’t read it  _and_  none of your business.” Lavellan answered quickly, shrugging. “Are you having your usual or are you just passing by?”   
  
 _Please leave._

“… The usual.” He mumbled, meeting her eyes. Lavellan nodded and knelt down, reaching into the bottom of the cooler for a ginger-ale.

"Can we talk?” He asked as she poured his drink into a cooled glass. It was a force of habit for her, remembering how their friends would mock him for drinking soda at a bar. She always had a plan. She poured him a soda and used food coloring to give it more of a darker tint, passing it off as beer. She skipped the food coloring this time, placing a napkin on the bar before setting his drink over it.

“There's nothing to talk about.” Lavellan forced herself to smile, “You’re with who you are meant to be with now. Such as life.”

“You can’t be serious.” Cullen’s eyes shot up, confused, “You’ve always been the one to say that the soul mate stuff was bullshit. How can you—”

“Is this you trying to get back in my good graces?” Lavellan knelt back down to close the cooler, frowning. She  _was_  the one to always say that. She hated being told who to love, but the past couple of days… Her mind drifted back to the dream.   
  
‘ _I will **never**  forget you.’_

Lavellan furrowed her brows, shaking her head. That voice. Why did it sound so familiar now? She huffed, pushing herself from the floor and wiped some dirt from the floor off her jeans.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Cullen? Like with Surana?” Lavellan asked, her frown deepening. Creators, where was another customer when she needed one?

“I— I haven’t… I haven’t told her.” Cullen admitted, sighing. Lavellan's brows furrowed, her gaze hard.   
  
 _Don't hit him. Don't hit him. Don't hit him._  
  
Sighing, she leaned forward against the bar and spoke, “So, you’re telling me that she has no idea that you’re her soul mate?” Cullen shook his head, picking up his soda and drinking it. Lavellan glared at Cullen, her nails digging into the bar. She wanted to scream at him. The entire reason he ended it was because of Surana! It’s been nearly two weeks and she  _still doesn’t know_? That was it.

“Get out.” Lavellan hissed, pushing herself off the bar.

Cullen choked on his drink, “P— Pardon me?”

“I can’t do this, Cullen.” Lavellan shook her head, laughing and taking a step back away from the bar, “You came here, to your  _ex’s_  workplace, for what? To bitch and moan about not having the man bits to tell the woman you love how you feel? Not to mention the part where  _she is your soul mate_.”

“Ellana—”

“ _No_.” Lavellan glared at him, her hands balling into fists, her shoulders shaking, “Get out now, Cullen… and do not come back.”

She didn’t care if she hurt Cullen’s feelings anymore, much like she didn’t care he shot her a dirty look before slapping some money on the bar and leaving.

“You okay, Ellana?” Krem walked next to her, tilting his head into her line of view. Lavellan’s shoulders continued to shake as she glared at the door. She couldn’t believe Cullen.

“Ellana—”

“ _What_?” Lavellan snapped at her friend, the tears finally falling. Krem pulled her into a hug immediately, Lavellan sobbing into his neck. Krem offered little words, just a small ‘fucking bastard’ and ‘he’ll rot in hell’. Before she knew it the bar had cleared, Isabela taking care of the last of the customers as Krem led her to the back lounge.

“I’m sorry.” Lavellan said soon after she calmed, wiping her tears away, “I… I wasn’t going to react like this.”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t waiting for it to happen.” Krem leaned back on the couch and frowned, “Poor excuse for a man…”

“Poor excuse for a lot of things.” Lavellan sniffed and ran a hand through her hair. “ _Creators_ , please don’t tell the others, Krem. They're still are friends with Cullen. I don’t want them to hate him because of me.”

“As long as I can still hate him.” Krem promised and placed a hand on her knee, “I’m always here for you, Ellana. You know that.” Slowly a smile spread on Lavellan’s face.   
  
She nodded to Krem, “I know. Thank you.”

* * *

 _“You change…_ **everything**.” He spoke, smiling down at the woman next to him.   
  
 **That voice.**  
  
Lavellan looked for a way down from the frozen waterfall, frowning when the only option she saw was to jump.

_“Sweet talker.” Lavellan looked back at the couple, straining her eyes to see the pair. She should be able to see them, why couldn’t she? They were blurred, much like her dream before. Then the woman pulled the man to her, giving him a quick kiss before turning away. Lavellan frowned and looked around. She **had**  to get down there. Lavellan stepped to the edge of the frozen waterfall, trying not to slide. She looked back up as to see the man had captured the woman, dipping her, pulling her as close as he possibly could. She cursed as her foot slipped, falling from the waterfall as he said the woman’s name._

_“ **Lavellan**.”_

Lavellan shot up in bed, her breathing labored. She bent forward, wiping some sweat off her brow. What the hell was going on? Who was she dreaming of? Why did they know her name? Creators, what was  _happening_  to her?


	5. Chapter 5

_—Ellana [5:10 am]  
_ _I’m going crazy  
_ _I’m positive I’m going fucking crazy  
  
_ _—Ellana [5:15 am]  
_ _DORIAN  
_ _PICK UP YOUR FUCKING PHONE NOW  
_ _PLEASE_

“ _What?_ ” Dorian hissed as he finally answered.

“I’m going nuts!” Lavellan was pacing in her room, holding a bag of ice to her head, “I— I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Dorian! I’m dreaming about… about a couple and— and  _he_  said  _ **my**_  name!”

“ _Who said your name?_ ” Dorian yawned over the phone, his voice fading in and out.

“I… don’t really know.” Lavellan stopped pacing, letting the hand with the ice fall to her side, “I… I can’t see their face but he said  _Lavellan_.”

“ _You do realize you aren’t the only elf with that name, yes?_ ”

“Dorian—”

“ _Please, Peaches, I need to wake up soon for work and I would like to be well rested. Not all of us have night jobs._ ”

“Fine.” Lavellan huffed, frowning and ended the call. She shook her head, walking out of the room and to the kitchen. She was too awake to fall back asleep now, even if she only slept for little more than an hour. Her others friends would not hold back on their anger if she woke them up now to talk about her dream. Lavellan set the bag of ice down in her sink and turned to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water and moved over to the counter. She pulled herself onto the counter and opened the bottle. Her mind was racing, trying to connect dots that she didn’t know existed or not. She needed to know who she was dreaming of and who the hell they were. Lavellan’s eyes trailed over to her messenger bag that laid on the hook on the wall.

 _Sal’shiralen or Lam’venirelanen_.

She could call Solas, but this early in the morning she would get the same reaction as she had gotten with Dorian. Lavellan frowned and looked down at her phone. She didn’t know Solas well enough to call at 5 in the morning about a dream, one that might have just been a stress dream. All this new soul mate stuff and Cullen suddenly coming to the bar… it was just stress— But something in the back of her mind whispered it wasn’t. Something was going on and she needed to know. Putting her worry aside, she texted him. At least if she texted, he would have the chance of not waking.

_—Ellana [5:29 am]  
_ _Ir abelas, hahren. I do not wish to wake you but I do not think my dream_ _will be as clear in a few hours as it is now.  
_ _I feel like I am going insane!  
_ _I think I may be dreaming of a past life.  
_ _The first dream, my vision was blurry but I remember colors.  
_ _A lot of green, glaring gold… blue, perhaps water though_ _I do not remember hearing any.  
_ _I remember what I said and what the figure said.  
_ _…  
_ _I do not know what I said means:_ _Var’lath vier suliadin?_

_—Solas [5:33 am]  
_ _Var lath vir suledin.  
_ _It can be roughly translated to 'our love can overcome this'_ _or 'our love will endure this path.'  
_ _Do you remember much of this dream, da’len?_

Lavellan let out a sigh of relief, both happy to hear from Solas and know that he wasn’t writing her off.

_—Solas [5:34 am]  
_ _You said first dream, what of the second? Did you have more?  
_ _When did this start?_

_—Ellana [5:34 am]  
_ _The second one I just woke up from.  
_ _It started before my shift at work a couple hours ago…  
_ _I was standing on a frozen waterfall but I wasn’t in my body like I was in the first dream_ _and it wasn’t as blurry.  
_ _I watched whoever I was in the body of before stand with their lover across the river.  
_ _It was snowing. Very cold. A large structure was in the background._

_—Solas [5:36 am]  
_ _Would you prefer to speak on the phone?  
_ _I can only imagine how overwhelming this is.  
_ _It is not good to strain your mind in this state._

Lavellan happily called Solas, glad not to write quickly anymore.

“ _Tell me more of these dreams_.” Solas said quickly. Lavellan was shocked, he sounded wide away and from the sound of cars in the background he wasn’t home either.

“O— Okay. Well, as I've said, I’ve only had the two so far. The first one I told you much of—”

“ _Tell me everything you can remember from the first dream. Colors, sounds, feelings, dialogue, anything_.”

“Okay,” Lavellan took a deep breath, “I was in pain during the first dream. My eyes were blurry, I thought it was from me crying but now I— I am not sure. I said ‘ _emma lath_ ’ to someone— a man, and soon after said ‘ _var lath vir suledin_ ’.”

“ _My love… Our love will endure this path_.” Solas’ voice wavered, Lavellan barely noticed but heard it. She furrowed her brows, and with a small shake of her head wrote off any emotion she heard in Solas’ voice. She couldn't get distracted right now.

“My hair was sticking to my face, either from sweat or— or water, and he pushed some away while saying ‘I wish it could,  _vhenan_ ’… I screamed, whatever pain I was feeling had returned and he… held me, I think? He said ‘my love’ before I felt something against my lips and as he walked away the pain faded… I was fading… He said ‘I will  _never_  forget you’ and I... and I woke up.” Lavellan’s own voice was thick with sadness as she spoke of her dream.

“The next dream wasn’t as bad.” Lavellan continued when Solas did not speak, “They had to be the same people— at least I think so — the voices were the same and the emotions… They were alone, the village behind them looked deserted. There was a wooden fence protecting the village, a few tents were outside of it and a large structure was inside the village. I could see the top of some huts but no people other than the two.”

“ _Did you see their faces?_ ”

“That’s the weird thing.” Lavellan mumbled, taking another drink of her water, “Everything else was clear but they were blurry. I thought it might have been from how far I was but I could see things behind them that I shouldn’t have seen if they were as blurry as I saw them.”

“ _What… were they doing? Did they say anything?_ ”

“He said ‘you change  _everything_ ’ and the woman said back ‘sweet talker’. The woman pulled him into a quick kiss but she turned, quickly... Maybe rethinking her actions— I don't know... but before she could even move away, he pulled her back and kissed her…  pulled her to him... almost desperately.”

“ _Are you sure you couldn’t see them?_ ” Solas asked, almost doubtful but something else was in his voice. Something Lavellan could not place, “ _From the way you are describing their actions—_ ”

“He said my name, Solas.” Lavellan drank the last of the water, “He said ' _Lavellan'_  as he kissed her.”

“ _Do you recognize the voice?_ ”

Lavellan sighed, “Yes and no. I  _know_  I know that voice from somewhere but I can’t figure out who.”

“ _Do you think if you heard the person you would know?_ ”

“I don’t think so. The way he spoke was full of emotion… sadness and anger…” Lavellan cleared her throat, the tips of her ears turning pink, “ _Lust_ , in the most recent dream.”

She heard Solas snicker and rolled her eyes, “Come on. You’re supposed to be the mature one.”

“ _I could not help it._ ” She could hear the smile on his lips, “ _My apologies, da’len. The way you said it was amusing. Have you not had someone say your name like that before?_ ”

Lavellan gapped at her phone, her cheeks flaring with embarrassment, “That’s personal!”

“ _I’ll take that as a **no**._ ”

“Not... Not like he said it…" Lavellan admitted, chewing on her bottom lip. "Could this be Fen’Harel?”  
  
“ _Might very well be the man you have been searching for, yes, but in a past life._ ” Solas confirmed and took a deep breath, “ _I must go now, da’len, but do me a favor; Start writing a dream journal._ ”

“A dream journal?” Lavellan couldn’t help but laugh, “Really?”

He chuckled, “ _Humor me. Keep a dream journal. The second you wake up, write down everything you can remember._ ”

“I will.” Lavellan nodded, pushing herself off of the counter and walking back towards her room, “Ah, Solas?”

“ _Yes, da’len?_ ”

“ _Ma serannas_ … I— I know this sounds crazy—”

“ _It does not, da’len…_ ” He cleared his throat, “ _We will speak more of this when you’ve had more dreams. In the mean time, I will let you know if I find anything more on Fen’Harel._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvhen [Translated by Fenxshiral]:  
> Sal’shiralen or Lam’venirelanen: Lives of the Past Masters


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for some Varric x Cass cuteness

  _—Solas [4:43 pm]  
_ _Any more exciting dreams, da’len?_

_—Ellana [4:45 pm]  
_ _Nothing since your last text an hour ago lol_

_—Solas [4:46 pm]  
_ _Apologies. I have never been able to work with someone while they were_ _getting glimpses of their past lives.  
_ _It is remarkable._

_—Ellana [4:50 pm]  
_ _I am glad someone thinks so.  
_ _The only other one who doesn’t think I’m crazy is Krem_ _but he doesn’t understand this like you do._

_—Solas [4:50 pm]  
_ _Few do._

* * *

**Three Months Later – Fall**

*** * ***

Varric leaned forward on his desk, resting his head in his hands as he let out a long sigh. His computer screen lit up the dark room. It was nearing 1 a.m. He should probably leave before he decides to sleep on that damned couch again. He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, glaring at the blank word document in front of him. You’d think with all the romance he’s been around lately it would be easier to write this crap. Varric shook his head and exited the document, unsaved and not a care in the world. He shut down his computer and as he was about to turn off his desk light his office phone rang. At first, he assumed it would be Dorian, maybe even Lavellan or Cole, but the area code wasn’t one he recognized. He almost let it go to voice mail.

_Almost._

“Hello?” Varric groaned and leaned back in his chair, racking a hand through his loose hair. There was some shuffling of papers on the other line, a few curses and groans before the woman finally spoke. “ _I seemed to have called the wrong number_.” And she hung up. Varric pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at it confused before setting it down on the receiver and leaving his office.

*** * ***

The calls persisted throughout the week. Sometimes the women would make a disgusted noise before hanging up again, or just hang up before he even spoke. It happened at least 3 times a day and by the following week Varric would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it.

“My friends are becoming suspicious of my sudden need to always be near my phone.” He said after picking up for the fourth time that day, “They just don’t understand the connection we have.”

“ _How is it that whenever I call this number it is **you**  who picks up?_” The voice spat, more papers shuffling, “ _Maker, did that damned Solas give me the wrong number?_ ”

“Solas?” Varric raised an eyebrow, straightening up in his chair.

“…  _You know of him?_ ” The woman asked, the papers stopped shuffling.

“Yes, he’s a close friend.” Varric scratched his scruff beard and frowned, he forgot to shave this morning, “I don’t believe I’ve gotten your name?”

The women sighed, “ _I’m Cassandra Pentaghast. Leading publisher at..._ ” She made a disgusted noise before continuing, “ ** _Pentagasp Erotic Literature_** _. Before you speak; **No** , I did not come up with the name._”

The phone almost fell from Varric’s hand, his eyes moving to look at the hidden tattoo on his wrist, “Pentaghast, you say…  _Cassandra_   _Pentaghast_?”

“ _Yes_.” Varric pulled out his cell phone and started to send a text to Solas. “ _And since this number is correct, I assume you’re **Bianca the Storyteller**?_ ” Varric cringed. He knew picking that alias was the worst mistake of his life.

“Yes,” Varric sighed and reread his text before sending it.

_—Varric [4:53 p.m.]  
_ _Thanks for the warning, Chuckles._

“Sorry that the name was deceiving. I imagine I don’t sound anything like a  _Bianca_.” Varric locked his phone and set it down on his desk, turning his attention back to Cassandra. His phone vibrated, the soft ‘ding!’ of a new message played as Solas replied back.

“ _On the contrary_ —”

_—Chuckles [4:54 p.m.]  
_ _Glad to be of service, my friend._

“— _I did not expect you to sound so girly_.” Varric hid his smirk behind his hand, shutting his eyes as Cassandra started to speak again.   
  
 _Maker_ , Varric thought,  _I like this woman_.

* * *

Solas frowned at his phone as his mind continued to fight against him. He should tell her, yes? Tell her everything and just get it over with. She would know, she would be happy, and he wouldn’t have to lose precious sleep over this anymore. Sooner or later he would have to tell her, sooner or later she would figure it out for herself. Though the dreams have since dulled down for her, almost to once in a blue moon, sooner or later she could catch on. Not many elves kept the same face every past life, they were the first that he knew of. He set his phone on his desk and leaned back in his chair. He should call. Consequences be damned, he should. His eyes flickered upward as the door handle to his office jiggled and soon Tabris walked through, a knowing smile on her face. She was almost the same as the last time he saw her, covered head to toe in rain water but with a smile on her face and her Lyrium Blue earrings shining through her unruly curls…and someone trailing close behind.

“ _Lethallan_!” Solas quickly stood, a smile spread on his face, “I had not expected to see you so soon.”

As he walked around his desk Tabris pulled him into a hug, barking laughter came from the small elf as Solas wrapped his arms around her. 

“I was originally going to call,” Tabris took a step back and looked behind her, motioning to the human that stood behind her, “I found him – completely be accident, by the way, which is why I never called you about a meeting.  _Ir abelas, lethallin_. I know you said to call bu—”

“So, this is Theirin?” Solas smiled warmly at the human, whose face was red as a tomato as Tabris introduced him. Tabris cleared her throat as she reached for the human’s hand, her own face turning pink as she spoke, but the smile never faded, “This is Alistair Theirin. Alistair, this is Solas –  _just_  Solas.”

“This is him?” Alistair’s voice cracked slightly, and Solas watched as Tabris giggled and nudged him in the stomach, “ _Emma lath_ , you need not be nervous. He is supportive.”

“She is correct.” Solas nodded, hold his hand out for Alistair, “I admit, I am worried. You are of royal blood and others will not take kindly to a noble being with an elf.”

Alistair shook his hand firmly, catching Solas by surprise, “Thank you, uhh,  _Solas_. You do not need to worry of her safety, though. I’m a bastard, I have no right to any lands, crowns, royal endeavors and such. I’m a free man... for the most part.”

“The most part?” Solas looked at Tabris, raising an eyebrow. Her smile was now strained, “He was… conscripted a few weeks before we met.” Tabris knew his opinions on The Wardens and the pointless wars they have waged throughout the centuries. Tabris did not see the point of the wars either — More bloodshed, more family’s lost, more futures destroyed for the fight of their ideals on a ‘free country’.

“Your father  _willing_  let you be conscripted?” Solas turned his eye’s back to Alistair, a new and possibly bias opinion was now in Solas’ mind. There is no possible way Maric would allow his son to join.

“Me and my half brother, Cailan, yes." Alistair cleared his throat. "He holds the Wardens in high regards. They needed conscripts and he offered us.”

“Just like that?” Solas spoke with an edge and the only one who seemed to notice was Tabris.

“S— Solas, wait, he—”

“When will you be leaving to fight in  _this_  pointless war?”

“I’m... I'm not.” Alistair sighed, shutting his eyes, “I refused to fight for the Wardens and ran. Which is how I ended up meeting Kallian.” Solas’ anger quickly deflated, his eyes widening. Tabris squeezed Alistair’s hand and smiled at Solas.

“If you had let me  _speak_ ,” She childishly glared at Solas, but her smile only grew, “You wouldn’t have needed to get all edgy one us,  _lethallin_.” Solas quickly apologized, offering them a seat and refreshments.

“You do realize that running from the Warden’s put not only just you in danger, yes?” Solas looked at Alistair, leaning back in his chair and frowning. “I support your judgment on running. You would most likely parish in this war.” 

Before Alistair could reply, Tabris interjected in their native tongue, “ _Can you not be grim and fatalistic for one day? **Please**? We know we are both in constant danger now — coming here was a big risk in itself, but I needed him to met you... needed  **you**  to meet  **him**._ ”

Solas looked down, shutting his eyes and sighing. “I will help you two in anyway that I can… I still have some connections in the Warden’s and can arrange for Alistair’s name to…  _disappear_  from their conscription list.”

“You would do that?” Tabris smiled at her friend, and laughed at Alistair’s shocked expression.

“ _I know **that**  was your main reason for coming_,” He spoke in Elvhen to his friend, narrowing his eyes at her, “ _This is my **last**  favor for you, Tabris._”


	7. Chapter 7

_—Solas [6:02 pm]  
_ _I need to speak with you as soon as you are able._

_—Thom [6:05 pm]  
_ _I am assuming this is important if it is flying over Monty._

_—Solas [6:05 pm]  
_ _It is.  
_ _I do not wish Lady Montilyet to know of this arrangement._

_—Thom [6:06 pm]  
_ _That bad, hm? I can be in Haven by Saturday._

_—Solas [6:06 pm]  
_ _Splendid. Same place as usual._  

* * *

Varric was smirking as he leaned back in his chair, the Skype application open on his laptop as he spoke face-to-face, or face-to-computer-face, to Cassandra. They had been speaking every night since agreeing to work with a new publisher. His old publisher, Worthy, didn’t take to kindly on his sudden departure but he hadn’t been doing his job very well to begin with. He needed someone new to work with and this option was both enjoyable and entertaining… the money wouldn’t be so bad either.

“So,” Varric adjusted in his chair and cleared his throat, “Who was the lucky reader to stumble across my  _smutty_  literature in Nevarra?”

“I was.” Cassandra shrugged, waving off his comment but did little to hid the small blush forming on her tan skin, “The publishing company hadn’t been doing as great as my brother would like so I looked for other writers who were popular in the field. Your name was one of the few that came up on my search. You had more books but hadn’t published anything for some time. I assumed it was because your publisher and, after speaking with Solas, it seemed my suspicions were correct.”

“How did you even find to Solas?” Varric leaned onto his desk, tilting his head at the screen, "It took me over a month to find the bastard."

“I called your old publisher and asked for your name.” Cassandra ran a hand through her hair and sighed, “He was not very helpful and would only give me the city where you currently were. Rather than send letters to every single publisher and writer in the area, I tracked down Solas and called him.”

“Chuckles is the only other writer I know in the area… publisher wise, there are a few big companies around here. Trying to get someone to reply would have taken months.” Varric nodded, leaning back in his chair, “But, going back to my books… you’ve read them all?”

“All under your alias, yes.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

“Even the last installment of ‘ _Swords and Shield_ ’?” Varric questioned.

Cassandra paused, chewing on her bottom lip. “Yes, which is why I tracked you down. You left the series off on a cliffhanger and it has been almost two years since. My brother has agreed to publish your next installment—”

“What was your favorite part, Cassandra?” He smiled at her, leaning forward again. He watched as she tensed on the screen, her eyes shinning even in the dark area. He had only seen her in the dark… How beautiful was she in the light? 

“I must warn you,  _Bianca_ ,” She crossed one leg over the other before crossing her arms, “If I start talking about your book, neither of us will be sleeping tonight.”

“Varric.” He corrected her, smiling, “You can just call me by my name.”

“ _Just_  Varric?” Cassandra tilted her head to the side, her own smirk forming on her lips, “Not titles? Last name? Middle name even?” 

“Do you have a middle name?” He asked.

“Ugh.” Her nose scrunched up and Varric thought it was the cutest face in the world, “My full name will never be repeated by  _anyone_.”

Varric laughed, “It couldn’t be that bad.”

“I have  _many_  middle names,” She shifted again in her seat, frowning down at the table, “But what of you,  _Varric_? No other name?” A shiver fell down his spine when she said his name.   
  
 _Makers balls_ …

“Varric…” He hesitated for a moment, “Varric... uhh...  _Tethras_.” He watched as she froze on the screen. Her eyes weren’t even glued to him but the camera instead. The next second the call ended and he frowned. He figured she’d be mad, yell at him, send him messages of curses but instead... Nothing.

* * *

“I fucked up.” Varric mumbled against the receiver.

“ _I can’t really hear you_.” Lavellan spoke from the other end of the line, “ _I heard fucked though. What happened?_ ”

“You know how I’ve been talking with Cass lately?”

Lavellan took a deep breathed and answered, “ _You scared her off, didn’t you?_ ”

“Yes.” Varric groaned and ran a hand through his hair as he stared at his empty drink, “I told her my name and—”

“ _What do you mean ‘I told her my name’? You’ve been speaking for two fucking weeks and she didn’t even know your name?_ ” Lavellan’s phone shifted on her shoulder as she yelled out, “ _Hey, Izzy! Krem! Varric fucked it up with Cass already!_ ”

He heard Isabela’s muffled voice in the background, “ _Crap! I owe Fenris fifty bucks now._ ”

Varric shook his head, not at all surprised that Isabela and Fenris had a bet against him. He was only shocked to see that Isabela voted on the wrong side. “Peaches—”

“ _Free drinks if you come by and talk in person_.” Lavellan’s voice was soft as she spoke, he could hear the worry in her voice. If anyone knew what this was like, it would sure as hell be her. She reminded him, “ _Being alone in that state... it isn't fun._ ”

He sighed and nodded, “I’ll take a cab. I’ll be there soon… And thank, Ellana.”

“ _I’m always here for you, Varric_.” She laughed, “ _Just a phone call away_.”

* * * 

_—Ellana [1:22 am]  
_ _Ir abelas, hahren.  
_ _I know it is late but I need a favor._

_—Solas [1:22 am]  
_ _More dreams?_

_—Ellana [1:30 am]  
_ _I’m only good to you for dreams now?  
_ _Lovely. Never mind. I'll call Dorian._

_—Solas [1:30 am]  
_ _I did not mean it to sound that way, da’len.  
_ _I thought you may have had more questions about your dreams._

_—Solas [2:00 am]  
_ _Da’len?_

*** * *  
** **4 Days Later  
** *** * ***

_—Thom [2:00 pm]  
_ _It is done._

_—Solas [2:01 pm]  
_ _Thank you, old friend.  
_ _Tell Lady Montilyet I said hello._

* * *

“ _Buttchin_  wanted me to give this to you.” Sera quickly walked past Lavellan into her apartment, shoving a small box into her palms before going to raid her fridge.

“ _Buttchin_?” Lavellan raised an eyebrow and shut the door behind Sera, locking it. “You mean Solas?” Lavellan walked to the counter and pulled herself on top of it, frowning down at the cardboard box.

“Yeah,” Sera snorted and pulled out the milk from her fridge, “Had a meetin’ with him. Goin’ over more bullshit to find this  ** _Adaar_**  chick— How hard could it be to find a Qunari?  _Damn_ , ya sure he’s legit?”

“Yes.” Lavellan rolled her eyes and looked up at Sera, “He is the best in the soul searching business…”   
  
 _And the only one who doesn’t do it for the fame._    
  
Sera fixed herself a bowl of cereal, complaining more about Solas than Lavellan would like to hear. Lavellan busied herself with the box, opening it and pulling out a letter that was tapped to the top.

_Ir abelas, da’len._

_I realize now how you must feel when every other text from me is asking if you have had any new dreams. Since you would not respond to my texts or calls, and since I do not know where you live, I used Sera as a means for this to be delivered. I apologize now if it upsets you that I used Sera in a silly ploy to get this to you. I did not trust this would get to you by other means. This is not a complete bribe for you to start speaking to me again, but if you want to think of it as that, then yes…this is very much a hopeless bribe, from a hopeless man, of sugary treats that I know you will love as much as I do._

_I do need to speak with you when you have the chance, however. There are things I need to go over with you to help me narrow down the search of where this **Fen’Harel**  could possibly be. Please, when you are able, and have accepted my bribe, call me._

_Dareth shiral._

_P.S. I hope you enjoy the frilly cakes. They are my personal favorite and remind me of a simpler time._

Lavellan couldn’t help but smile as she looked down at the frilly cakes.   
  
 _Simpler time_ , Lavellan laughed and picked one up and started eating.  _You are **so**  old, hahren… and I love it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Varric pulled a Solas XD and Solas is being a butt…like his chin lol


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not use to having so many people like my writing…I’m crying because this is just so amazing ;~; I’m sorry if I don’t reply to every comment. Sometimes I just don’t know what to reply…just…thank you all…really c’: you are all so awesome. !!!!!!Also…Get ready for some nice smut ;)!!!!!!

Lavellan sighed into the receiver, her eyes not leaving the note Solas wrote that was now placed neatly on her lap while she sat in bed.   
  
She spoke as soon as the line was picked up, “Your bribe was a success,  _Hahren_. The frilly cakes were flawless and the cupcakes were sublime. I hope you realize that you’ll need to give me the name of the bakery now, my sweet tooth has yet to be sated.”

A ghost of a blush dusked across Lavellan’s face as Solas’ sweet laugh rang in her ears. His laugh was light and calm, carefree. It made her chest tighten and her breath halt. It was beautiful. She wished he would never stop laughing.

“ _We can meet there tomorrow, if you are able. It is a quiet setting, has free Wifi. We can work on what I wanted to speak to you about ther_ —”

“What time?” She cut him off, cringing at her over-eagerness, but he laughed again. Softer than the first, a small chuckle.

“ _How about noon? Or one?_ ”

“N— Noon works fine,” Lavellan fumbled with her words. “I’m free all day anyways.”

“ _Excellent. I will text you the address, da’len… See you tomorrow?_ ” She hummed in confirmation, a small smile forming on her lips when realization hit her that he  _asked_  her.

“Yes.” She lightly laughed, “I’ll be there— but  _only_  because of the sweets. I am still a little cross with you.” He laughed again and her sweet tooth was suddenly sated. 

* * *

_—Ellana [11:54 pm]  
_ _I’m sorry. I know it’s late.  
_ _I wanted to apologize for me ignoring you.  
_ _It wasn’t right._ _I’m just…  
_ _There is no excuse. Ir abelas, hahren._

_—Solas [12:02 am]  
_ _I understand where you were coming from, da’len.  
_ _We have been speaking for some time but I only text you when I wonder about your dreams.  
_ _It was wrong of me.  
_ _I want you to know that you are more than just a cypher to me._

_—Ellana [12:03 am]  
_ _I know you would never use me, Solas.  
_ _I sometimes just have to remind myself that not everyone is like who I have met in the past.  
_ _I hate that my past is ruining a lot for my future._

_—Solas [12:04 am]  
_ _The past shapes who we become, da’len.  
_ _I see no fault in you, nor should you.  
_ _You have a marvelous spirit and a beautiful mind._

_—Ellana [12:05 am]  
_ _Stop it, hahren.  
_ _You’re making me blush._

_—Solas [12:10 am]  
_ _Good._

* * *

The bakery was small, oh so small, and it didn’t help that most of the seating was outside and it was raining. There is no way they would find a table inside to sit and work. Lavellan sat at on of the tables outside, thankfully fully covered from the awning but stray droplets of rain still found their way onto the table. A steaming hot cup of cocoa sat between her frozen palms, a scarf twirling around her neck and covering her face up to the tip of her nose. Her coat was clasped tightly around her body but the chill was still nipping at her skin. She hadn’t even touched her drink, she mostly bought it for the warmth. Her frilly mini-cake already consumed and forgotten.   
  
Where the hell was Solas?

She pulled out her phone and frowned behind her scarf. 12:32 pm flashed across her screen before she locked it and shoved it back in her pocket. Creators, if it wasn’t for the lack of a fucking car at the moment she would be gone. She was hoping Solas would be able to at least drive her to Isabela’s bar after they finished their meeting, but now she wasn’t even sure if Solas would be coming. She pulled out her phone again and called him, her ears falling when it went straight to voice mail.

“H— Hey. I— I’m at the bakery… it’s after twelve, almost one… I know I said I was free all day but, come on, Solas, this is  _ridiculous_. Is… Is everything okay? Did something happen?” She bit her bottom lip and shut her eyes. “If you aren’t here by one, or I don’t hear from you by one, I’m gonna head home. It’s freezing and I’ve been sitting outside because the bakery is  _packed_ … I hope you’re okay… Call or text me…  _please_.” She quickly ended the call before her voice became more desperate, but now she was worried. His phone was never off. Something was wrong, right? She was about to stand when a hand was placed on her shoulder.

“I am so sorry I am late,  _da’len_ ,” Solas walked around to the other side of the table and sat. She couldn’t help but laugh at what he was wearing.  _Everything_  was covered, his cheeks and nose a rosy pink, his lips slightly pouting when she laughed. He had a large wool beanie over his head, covering his ears and his eyebrows, two scarves around his neck and tucked into his coat, his hands shoving into his coat but Lavellan could see the edges of leather gloves.

“Why are you wearing all of that?” She said once she finished laughing, her smile only growing as Solas turned even redder.

“I made a horrible decision this morning, which is why I am late— I am sorry. I forgot my phone as well so I could not call. I’m sorry.”

“You said ‘I’m sorry’ twice and  _what_  horrible decision did you make?” Lavellan raised an eyebrow, tilting her head down and to the side to try and catch Solas’ eyes. He kept looking away, every inch of his skin that was visible cherry red by time he looked at Lavellan.

“It’s too cold to show you now.” 

“I don’t think it’s that cold.” Lavellan smirked, though she was shivering. He wasn’t the one that had been sitting out here for the past hour. She was covered enough for him not to notice her shivering, she was certain.

“I will show you later. For now…  _Fenedhis_.” He stared past Lavellan, before shutting his eyes and cursing in Elvhen again, “I left my laptop on my counter.”

She stood up and pulled her scarf down to smile at him, “We’re both freezing, Solas. Let’s just go… my place is closer but if you want to go back to your office…?” She left the question hanging before he nodded and stood quickly, motioning for Lavellan to follow him with his covered head. She shrugged to herself and followed him around the bakery to the small parking area they had in the back. She followed him to his car and quickly got in when he unlocked it. They sat in silence for a while as Solas let the car heat up.

“Fen’Harel’s  _balls,_  it’s fucking freezing.” Lavellan mumbled behind her scarf, pulling her beanie off and pulling some wet hair from her face. She shivered as cold droplets of water rolled down her neck, her ears tilting downward when she started to freeze again. Solas chuckled next to her, his eyes narrowing down at the steering wheel, his hands tucked firmly in his crossed arm.

“You probably should not say that in the presence of your significant other.” He said, smirking behind his scarf.

“Hm… Yeah, probably not. It might offend them.” Lavellan mumbled, pulling her fingers from her gloves and raised them in front of the vent, a smile forming as the numb feeling soon left.

_Mostly amuse them._

Lavellan looked over at Solas, frowning. He had yet moved, his arms still tightly tucked together with his hands stuffed between them.

“Take your gloves off.” Lavellan pulled her scarf off and put her hands back in front of the vent. Lavellan could see Solas’ eyebrow raise from behind his wool beanie and rolled her eyes. She turned to him and pulled his right arm towards her, pulling the glove off and wrapping her warm hands around his frigid one. She studies his hand as she rubbed her warm fingers against his skin. There were so many freckles (she’d count them later), a few scars on his knuckles (she’d ask why later), his fingers were long and slender but not boney or unattractive – lean, hard but soft. She hummed and looked up at him, a blush creeping on her cheeks under his intense gaze. 

“…Is your hand still cold?” She said loud enough for him to hear. He slowly nodded and watched as Lavellan moved one of her palms away from his, going back in front of the vent. Her eyes moved back to his hand, bringing her palm away from the vent and intertwining their fingers. She flipped his hand over and massaged his palm.

“Now?” Her voice was weaker, barely audible to herself but he heard.   
  
 _What are you doing?_  He thought to himself as he held onto her hand, watching her as she froze, her eyes meeting his through her lashes. Neither moved, both fearing that the other would reject them. Solas was here to help Lavellan find Fen’Harel, not fill the empty hole in her heart. Lavellan was his client, first and foremost. She didn’t know he was Fen’Harel and he made the decision to tell her once he finished the others and he must stick to that promise, it would be easier for both of them.

“Better.” Solas mumbled behind the scarves, letting his hand fall away from Lavellan.

“Now the other one.” Lavellan said, moving her hands back to the vent. Solas shut his eyes and shuddered, his mind yelling at him to lie and say his other palm was find but he could barely move his fingers. He shifted in his seat, holding out his left hand for her. She smiled as she removed the glove, doing the same motions to his right hand as she did to his left.

“How are you?” Solas asked, his voice muffled behind the scarf. He frowned and pulled the scarf off, throwing it in the backseat as Lavellan answered.

“Pretty good, actually.” Lavellan continued to massage his palm, “Helping Varric with Cassandra. He fucked up pretty bad.”

“Oh?” Solas raised an eyebrow, “Already?”

Lavellan laughed, her eyes shutting, “I know, right? Quickest fuck up I’ve ever seen.”

“What did he do?” Solas asked, placing his left hand under his thigh. His fingers were getting cold again.

“He didn’t tell her his name.” Lavellan sighed, shaking her head, “Two weeks he went on with her, flirting, skyping, sending naughty texts—”   
  
 _Oh no._

“It’s a bad thing, then?” Solas questioned, “Not telling her who he was?”

“Do  _you_  think it’s a good thing?” Lavellan tilted her head up at him, matching his eyebrow raise, “How would you feel being lied to? Only one of you knowing truth the entire time? I mean, yeah, two weeks isn’t that big of a deal — not like months or a year, Creators forbid. I couldn’t imagine being lied to like that. I’ve been lied to enough, as it is.”

“I… see your point.” Solas cleared his throat as Lavellan let go of his hand, flexing his fingers. The car was taking longer than usual to heat up, his left hand already succumbing back to the cold. He moved his left hand out from his thigh and frowned, a sigh escaping his lips. Lavellan rolled her eyes and took his left hand, not before shedding her own coat, and starting to warm him up again.

“How are you this cold?” She grumbled, “I was the one sitting out there for almost an hour and I’m fine.” He pressed his other hand against his forehead, feeling it damp under the wool hat.

“You aren’t looking too good, actually.” Lavellan said slowly, moving to the edge of her seat and pressing her hand against his forehead. Her other hand snaked around his neck and a very noticeable blush slowly worked its way from the back of his neck to the tips of his ears. Lavellan would have been proud if not for the fact that the sudden redness could be from his possible cold. Her hand moved from his forehead to his cheek, humming.

“You might be getting sick.” She mumbled, moving her hand back to his forehead, “How are you fee— Mmm…”

He could not stop himself as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. Her arms slowly circled around his neck, encouraged him, urged him on. She wants this, he told himself. He wrapped his arms around her form and pulled her closer, her body now pressed against his. She gasped into his mouth as one hand traveled down the small of her back to lift her toward him. She moved her legs on either side of him as he set her down on his lap, never breaking the kiss.

“We shouldn’t do this.” He breathed against her lips as his hands slid under her shirt, lifting the fabric to reveal more and more of her olive skin. She released him for a moment to lift her arms, allowing him to pull the shirt from her form and dispose it behind him.

“Why not?” She moved back to his lips. Possessively wrapping his arms around Lavellan’s hips, Solas pulled her as close as he could in the small space. Their tongues twisted and played together until they were both short of breath and Lavellan’s fingers began to fiddle with his coat. He quickly shed the clothing, Lavellan helping him when an arm got stuck. She was half-way down his shirt when she leaned back against the steering wheel, the horn ringing in both their ears. Solas quickly grabbed her rear, pulling her away from the wheel and pressing her back against him. He held her that way, smirking against her neck as she moaned against his ear. He chuckled darkly before showering her neck and shoulders with impatient kisses. She shuddered, one of the lewdest moans escaping her lips as Solas bit down harshly on her neck. Her finger trailed under his hat, throwing it off before racking her nails against the smooth flesh.

_Wait… what?_

Lavellan furrowed her brows, confused, her eyes trailing to the top of his head.   
  
 _Oh my…  
  
_ Lavellan covered her mouth, stifling her laugh at Solas’ new hair… or lack there of.  _This_  must have been the bad decision, and it really was a bad once considering how cold and wet the weather has become recently. He was possibly sick because of the decision too.

“What?” Solas groaned against her neck, nipping over the hickey. His cold fingers raking against her back.

“Yo— Your hair…” Lavellan snickered as Solas leaned back, furrowing his brows, “Or lack there of. This was your bad decision; I take it?”

“I—” Solas swallowed and cleared his throat, turning his head from Lavellan.

“I actually like it.” Lavellan said softly, smirking as she raked her nails over his scalp again. She laughed as he groaned, she had never seen that kind of reaction before.

He turned back to her and pulled her to his lips, “Lav—”

_“It’s not my fault I’m so attracted to you, **hahren**.” Lavellan walked around his desk, jumping onto the edge and smiling down at him. She had an apple in her palm, a cup of tea sat across his desk which was stacked with papers and books. The room was a circle, paintings that looked all too familiar on each wall._

_“The blame is mine then, as it always is.” He leaned back in his chair, his lips twitching into a smug smirk, “And what of my attraction for you? Is that my fault as well?”_

_“As you said, **Fen’Harel** ,” Lavellan leaned down, a ghost of a whisper caressed his ear, “The blame is  **always**  yours.”_

“Solas?” Lavellan’s hand were on his cheeks, her eyes searching his as he came to. “Solas! What happened? You— You’re bleeding!  _Fenedhis_.” Lavellan let one hand stay on his cheek, tilting his head back as she reached over the seat and pulled her scarf from the floor. She placed it over his nose, frowning when he still wasn’t coherent.

“ _Hahren_?” She stood on her knees now, leaning over slightly to catch Solas’ eyes. Damn him for being so tall. “ _Solas_? Come on, s— say something.” His eyes only widened as she hovered over him, the smell of her scarf quickly flooding his nostrils before being replaced with the scent of his blood. He slowly nodded, picking up his hand to take the scarf from her and mumbled an apology.

“Do you need me to drive?” Lavellan said, still straddling him. She was beyond worried now, the blood from his nose could be seen bleeding through her scarf. “We’re going to the hospital.”

“N— No,  _da’len_ … I am fine.” He struggled to speak, shutting his eyes. The small of his blood made his stomach churn. “I just need to breath.” Lavellan’s worried gaze never dulled but she nodded, placing a hand on his cheek.

“Take your time.” Lavellan said sweetly, but her tone laced with worry, her eyes continued searching his. He nodded to her and Lavellan pulled herself off of him, returning to her own seat and reaching for her shirt.

“ _Ir abelas_.” Solas mumbled, letting his head fall back against the head rest.

“ _Tel’abelas_.” Lavellan laughed, shoving her shirt over her head, “It was a nice distraction… one I hope to do again in the future.”

Solas nodded slightly to her, turning his eyes back to the fogged window in front of them. His mind was everywhere. He just had a vision. Fuck. He had a  _vision_. A vision with  _Lavellan_. Like he hadn’t already screwed himself over but…  
  
 _Fuck, fuck, fuckity, **fuck**._

Solas cringed, apologizing to himself for using such language, but it didn’t help. He kept cursing in his head. He had to tell her now. Now it was  **confirmed**  for him that she was his  ** _Lavellan_**  and he was her  ** _Fen’Harel_**. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I lied. Get ready for some nice "Almost-smut" is what I should have said...not actual smut...I'm sorry.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Word might be screwing with me. It was telling me to add coma’s where I know there shouldn’t be. If you see more unneeded coma’s, that is most likely why. Also I feel like I did this chapter wrong... I’m not good with sexy phone things so please let me know if it was good? A friend helped me with it but it still doesn’t feel… acceptable. But I stared at it so long that I think if I edit anymore of it I will ruin it so… If you want, please let me know?

The rest of the day had gone by smoothly. They ended up at her apartment and she helped him get everything he needed while fussing over his oncoming cold. Records, names, history, everything he would have originally needed if he would be investing his time into this search. Creators, what was he going to do? Not only had he been lying to Lavellan since the beginning but now he was having visions of his own past? This would explain her sudden visions… Perhaps being in close proximity of him made her have them? There were so many possibilities, not enough time to narrow down exactly what triggered her visions— and now possibly his own. This could be from his sudden cold, which he hoped he had not given to Lavellan — though it was worth it, he was certain she would agree with him on that — but the kiss had almost turned to more, something he could not afford while he still had her friends to help. Another touch from her could make him loss focus on everything he has worked hard on.

But he had to tell her. If he didn’t tell her soon… Who was he kidding? He already blew it. It had been almost four months since meeting her. If she was pissed with Varric about lying to Cassandra for two weeks… his own outcome did not look as promising. He groaned and rolled over in bed, raising the covers over his head. This terrified him. 

* * *

 _—Solas [3:00 pm]  
__I do not think it is such a bad thing to not tell the other their real name.  
__Under the right circumstances of course.  
__Master Tethras’ deception was unnecessary._  

Lavellan’s rolled over in bed, frowning at her alarm clock. The power must have gone off last night, 4:23 AM flashed on the screen. She sighed and lifted herself, leaning on an elbow as she reached for her phone, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she plopped back down onto her bed. She read over Solas’ text, her brows furrowing. She was not awake enough to have this conversation, but she replied back.

 _—Ellana [3:02 pm]  
_ _What are the right curcomstances than?  
_ _*circumstances  
_ _(Sorry. I’m just waking up.)_

_—Solas [3:04 pm]  
_ _At 3?_

_—Ellana [3:04 pm]  
_ _I had a rough night._

A part of her wondered if Solas was going to ask if it had been her recent dreams. The ‘…’ animation showing up before disappearing on her screen. He started typing again soon after, and his text had nothing to do with dreams. 

 _—Solas [3:05 pm]  
_ _I am here if you need to speak about anything, Lavellan._

Lavellan smiled at her screen and quickly replied.

 _—Ellana [3:05 pm]  
_ _I know, Solas, and thank you.  
_ _But back to your question, why only under correct circumstances?  
_ _What would be a ‘correct’ circumstance to lie about who you truly are?  
_ _Especially to your significant other._

She busied herself with making coffee in the kitchen as he replied. 

 _—Solas [3:06 pm]  
_ _To protect the ones you care about, sometimes you need to put duty first before yourself._

 _—Ellana [3:07 pm]  
_ _What about duty to your significant other?  
_ _It isn’t just you anymore.  
_ _“The second you met your significant other, they’re with you for life.”  
_ _“Whether it is a small shake of the hand, a glance, a gesture — you’re in this together.”_

_—Solas [3:09 pm]  
_ _Using my own words again me, da’len?_

_—Ellana [3:10 pm]  
_ _Just reminding you, hahren.  
_ _Why would an act that would only make things worse protect the one you claim to love?  
_ _...  
_ _Which poses my next question: Why bring this up?_

* * *

 _—Solas [7:31 pm]  
_ _What is your favorite color?_

_—Ellana [8:00 pm]  
_ _Orange… You?_

_—Solas [8:04 pm]  
_ _Black._

_—Ellana [8:04 pm]  
_ _Black is a shade._

_—Solas [8:04 pm]  
_ _Gold, then._

_—Ellana [8:05 pm]  
_ _Tevinter colors lol  
_ _Someone’s ass wasn’t kicked enough in the Imperium.  
I'm telling Dorian lol  
  
_ _—Solas [8:05 pm]  
Don't tell Dorian.  
  
_ _—Ellana [8:06 pm]  
_ _Why the sudden question?_

 _—Solas [8:06 pm]  
_ _Do you like Silk or Satin?_

_—Ellana [8:09 pm]  
_ _Um… Silk? I guess? I don’t really know the difference._

_—Solas [8:10 pm]  
_ _It’ll be a surprise than._

_—Ellana [8:11 pm]  
_ _What will be a surprise?  
What just happened?_

_—Solas [8:15 pm]  
_ _You just got a new scarf._

* * * 

 _—Ellana [10:03 am]  
_ _How are you feeling today, hahren?_

Lavellan’s turned to her phone as the ringer played, accepting the call when she saw it was Solas.

“ _I am… unable to see straight to reply to you… Lavellan?_ ” His words were slurred, his voice muffled, “ _I… think I took too much Nyquil._ ” Lavellan raised an eyebrow and stood from her desk, “How much did you take?”

“ _I tookkkkk_...” His voice lingered on the phone. Lavellan could heard the sound of a plastic bottle falling before he groaned, “ _Tooooooooo much_.”

“Now my next question,” Lavellan was already going to her dresser, “ _Why_  did you take Nyquil if it’s the morning?”

“ _I thought it was Dayquil?_ ” He answered, unsure of himself, “ _I think?_ ”

Lavellan took a deep breath, rolling her eyes. She froze when he started to chuckled, “ _I just realized something, Lavellan_.”

“…What?” Her voice was suddenly low, her hand clutching onto a pair of jeans.

“ _I kissed you_.” He snorted, more drunken laughter, “ _And you moaned. You **liked**  it_.”

“And you liked grabbing my ass.” Lavellan quickly said back, her face red.

“ _I did_.” He admitted. Lavellan could hear the smirk in his voice, “ _You have a very pert rear, by the way_.”

Lavellan laughed loudly, “Pert? Is that how you compliment women?”

“ _I could say other things… Unsavory thingsssss… things that will make your womanhood **quiver**_.” His smirk was growing.

“D— Don’t say anything you’ll regret.” Lavellan cleared her throat, her hand falling away from her dresser. Her hand trailed to the back of her neck, shutting her eyes at how hot her skin was.

“ _I will never regret making you blush and squirm... I enjoy thinking about it_.” He chuckled darkly, “ _I can’t get you off of my mind, Lavellan. The sounds you made; the sounds **I**  made you make._”

“ _Creators_.” Lavellan bit her lip, falling back to sit on her bed.

“ _I remember how you moaned when I bit you. You like pain, don’t you, Lavellan?_ ”

“ _Yes_.” She spoke too quickly for her liking. She cursed as Solas chuckled again. Dark, deep,  _sensual_ …

“ _I wonder what you taste like, da’len_.” He hummed, Lavellan could hear shifting from the other end, before he groaned. She fell back against her bed, a hand resting on her lower abdomen, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her pants.

“ _What you smell like.”_ He growled, _“What would you say, I wonder. When I bend you over and eat you out_.” Her fingers slowly worked into her pants as Solas continued to speak. She felt like she should stop him, he was drunk from over the counter medication… but she didn’t want him to stop. Creators, she  _never_  wanted him to stop.

“ _Would you allow me, da’len?”_ He hummed, contemplating, “ _Allow me to fuck you relentlessly with my tongue?_ ”

“ _Yes_.” She hissed through her teeth, pumping her fingers in and out, her toes curling.

“ _Lavellan_ …” He moaned her name —  _her name_  — full of lust and fervor, “ _I **want**  you…”_

Lavellan’s eyes shot open, the slur of his words returning. No, this felt wrong. He wasn’t in the right state of mind for this. They hadn’t even spoken about what happened… She reluctantly removed her fingers from herself, shaking her head.

“I can’t do this, Solas. You aren’t thinking clearly and—”

“ _I disagree_.” He growled. “ _I have never thought more clearly than right now_.” Lavellan took a shaky breath, “I’m sorry.” And she hung up before he could protest further. She let her phone fall from her hand and sighed, staring up at her ceiling. She did not regret hanging up, he would do the same to her if she was drunk — even if it was just from medication.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay… I lied, again… Unless ‘Semi-phone-sex’ can count as smut? It at least went further than the last chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

Lavellan tossed and turned, the blankets thrown off the bed despite the near-freezing temperatures. She was hot and bothered, left completely unsatisfied. She shouldn’t have ended the call. One part of her agreed with her actions; that part in no way regretted hanging up on him. Her only real regret was not being satisfied enough to get off once she had forcefully ended the conversation. Creators, she was about to call Solas and demand he continue, but he hadn’t called or texted her since this morning. The Nyquil had most likely knocked him unconscious soon after she ended the call. She hoped he didn’t think she rejected him; rejection wasn’t on her mind when she cut him off. She was more worried that Solas would take back everything the second he realized what he was saying.

She muffled her moan, biting her thumb as she remembered the way he had growled her name. So carnal, fiery, full of longing and lust. Oh, he was correct when he said he could make her quiver. Hours later, and she was still feeling the aftereffect of that one, short phone call. Her eyes trailed over to the phone on her nightstand, the wheels in her head spinning as she thought of a plan. She could just call, see if he was coherent enough — or awake at all — to see if he wanted to continue what he had started this morning. Setting her embarrassment aside, she sent him a text, almost identical to what she had sent earlier that morning.

 _—Ellana [1:23 am]  
_ _How are you feeling hahren?_

Lavellan didn’t expect a response any time soon, or even one at all, but no more than 30 seconds after she set her phone down, her notifications sound went off.

 _—Solas [1:23 am]  
_ _I am feeling much better, da’len. Thank you for asking.  
_ _I sadly made the horrible mistake of confusing nyquil and dayquil this morning and didn’t get to complete the work I set out for myself last night._

_—Ellana [1:24 am]  
_ _How could you even mix up the bottles?  
_ _One is all bright and orange while the other is dark and green…  
_ _Long night ahead? Who are you working on?_

_—Solas [1:24 am]  
_ _I do not remember must of yesterday so I am unable to answer that question.  
_ _And yes, Master Aclassi._

_—Ellana [1:24 am]  
_ _How far are you from finding her?_

_—Solas [1:25 am]  
_ _Not too far. I spoke with Trevelyan’s father a few days ago.  
_ _She is in Tevinter right now finishing up her degree in art history  
_ _Did you know House Pavus is related to House Trevelyan?  
_ _Very distant relatives but the houses still communicate to this day.  
_ _Did Dorian know of this?_

_—Ellana [1:26 am]  
_ _I doubt it. Dorian doesn’t speak to his relatives  
_ _You know what Tevinter is like first hand Solas_

_—Solas [1:29 am]  
_ _I do indeed.  
_ _I am sorry to cut this short da’len but I need to focus.  
_ _My mind can be easily distracted right now._

Lavellan frowned and sat up in bed. Was that an invitation to distract him? Or was it simply the truth? She frowned, wishing she had called instead. At least she would be able to tell if it was more of an invitation by his playful tone. 

 _—Ellana [1:30 am]  
_ _Ir abelas hahren I won’t keep you any longer  
_ _Feel better and let me know if you need anything_

_—Solas [1:31 am]  
_ _Ma serannas. I will keep that in mind._

* * *

“We’re going to be related!” Dorian laughed and wrapped his arm around Krem’s shoulder, raising his drink in his other hand. Krem’s face was flushed, had been ever since about an hour ago, when Lavellan told him about what she and Solas had spoken of the night before. Krem had barely said a word since they sat down for lunch in celebration of Krem’s soon to be meeting with Trevelyan. Even Varric and Fenris had decided to tag along for the free food,

“Your houses are very far off, Dorian,” Lavellan leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, resting her elbow on the chair’s armrest before placing her chin in her palm. “Very,  _very_  distant relatives.”

“Relatives nonetheless, Peaches!” Dorian laughed and ruffled Krem’s hair. “My baby boy is all grown up.”

“Ah, Dorian!” Krem pushed Dorian’s hand off of him, shaking his head and fixing his hair. Dorian’s laugh rang throughout the nearly empty restaurant, the few patrons present staring in annoyance at the group. Lavellan could have cared less at this point if they were kicked out of the restaurant or not; Dorian generally made going to places like these very difficult. 

“How about you and Cass?” Lavellan turned her eyes over to Varric. “Heard anything?”

“In a way,” Varric shrugged, crossing his arms and leaning forward on the table. “She isn’t going back on her word on publishing the next instalment of  _Swords and Shields_  — I received the paperwork to sign this morning.  _Pentagasp Erotic Literature_  is now my publisher…  _great_.” 

“You should be happy someone is willing to publish that filth,” Fenris grumbled next to him. “Just hope they don’t realize you base your characters off of people you know.”

“Why, Broody, I didn’t think you read my books,” Varric laughed, nudging Fenris’ side.

“I don’t,” he groaned, picking up his drink. “You already have a character design for Cassandra, don’t you?”

“I don’t add  _everyone_  I know,” Varric grumbled, shifting in his seat.

“I can confirm that,” Lavellan chirped in. “He hasn’t added me in his series, which I thank the Creators for everyday.”

“Yes, he has,” Fenris said back, raising an eyebrow at his friend. “You really don’t know which character is based on you?” Varric shot Fenris a warning glare before the elf continued undeterred.

“You’re the  _Herald_ ,” Fenris snickered.

“You mean…  _The_  Herald?” Lavellan’s eyebrows shot up as she leant forward in her chair. “Th—the  _prostitute_?” Fenris laughed as Lavellan slapped Varric’s shoulder in indignation.

“Creators, so help you, Varric! You are dead to me!” Krem and Dorian soon joined in on the laughter as Lavellan poured her water on top of Varric’s head.

* * *

“You’re still mad?” Varric asked as he pulled himself onto a stool in the Hanged Man. His usually stool had been punctured, clawed and had the stuffing ripped out of it for good measure.

“Hmm? Oh, no, no. Not at all, Varric,” Lavellan said, leaning behind the bar to pull out the Dwarven Ale he always asked for. She stood up and opened it as he apologized.

“Varric, really. I’m not mad. It’s a book,” Lavellan offered him a smile and handed him the ale. “From now on, just as a favor to me, ask the person whom you are basing a character off if it’s okay to use them. Not everyone likes being in books.”

“You know I don’t think of you that way,” he sighed and offered her a smile. “I don’t think you whore yourself out.”

“I know,” she nodded, smiling back. “It’s just fiction.”

“If you want, I can kill off Cullen’s character?” he offered, an evil glimmer in his eyes. “I still have a few good death scenes up my sleeves.”

Lavellan laughed and patted his hand. “Another time, Varric.” 

* * *

 _—Ellana [9:00 am]  
_ _How are you handling everything?  
_ _It isn’t too overwhelming I hope._

_—Krem [9:03 am]  
_ _Nah. I’m fine.  
_ _It’s fine.  
_ _Everything is fine._

_—Ellana [9:04 am]  
_ _You’re pacing aren’t you?_

_—Krem [9:04 am]  
_ _She’s so close Ellana  
_ _So fucking close  
_ _I didn’t think it would happen this fast  
_ _Maker how do people deal with things like this  
_ _My mind hasn’t calmed down since you told me  
_ _And now solas is already planning a meeting  
_ _MAKERS BALLS ELLANA  
_ _THIS IS TOO MUCH_

_—Ellana [9:07 am]  
_ _Do you need me to come over? To call?  
_ _Just sit down and relax. Breathe Krem._

_—Krem [9:08 am]  
_ _What if she doesn’t like me Ellana?  
_ _I’m not exactly… likeable_

_—Ellana [9:08 am]  
_ _Stop that train of thought right now Krem  
_ _You know that isn’t true  
_ _FUCK the people who have made you think like this  
_ _You DESERVE this Krem!_

_—Krem [9:10 am]  
_ _Do I?_

_—Ellana [9:10 am]  
_ _Why wouldn’t you?  
_ _What have you done in life that makes you think you deserve to be miserable?  
_ _You are nothing but kind Krem. You deserve to be happy.  
_ _If anyone says otherwise let me know so I can kick their ass_

_—Krem [9:15 am]  
_ _What would I do without you Ellana?_

_—Ellana [9:16 am]  
_ _Haven would be in ruins if not for me lol  
_ _I keep all of you in check_

_—Krem [9:17 am]  
_ _You really are a herald lol_

 _—Ellana [9:17 am]  
_ _Shut up you  
_ _Let me know if you need to talk anymore alright?  
_ _I’m here for you._

_—Krem [9:20 am]  
_ _I’m heading over to solas office now  
_ _I’ll let you know how things go_

* * *

“Have you spoken to Solas?” Dorian asked later that day as they walked through the new outlet mall. It was freezing and Lavellan was still scarf-less, but at least it wasn’t raining.

“Not in a few days,” Lavellan pursed her lips, trying to keep her mind off the elf who was completely ignoring her texts now. She had texted him last night before she left for work. A simple, ‘I need to speak with you,’ text. Over twelve hours later, still nothing. At least she would get an update from Krem. 

“How did your meeting with him go?” Dorian asked, tilting his head down to look at Lavellan. “You never told me.”

Lavellan shut her eyes and shrugged. “He said he would try his best, but whoever this Fen’Harel guy is, he doesn’t want to be found. He has hidden himself well.” 

“I don’t think I’ve asked this before, but what if he changed his name?” Dorian rolled his shoulders and shivered. Lavellan took his arm and lead him into a random store. They both needed to be in the warmth for a little while.

“The Search is informed of the name change. They do what they…” Lavellan frowned and trailed off. It took her a few moments to clear her throat and continue in a small voice. “What they did to you.”

She didn’t need to add the rest, “ _Burn the tattoo off and add the new one under_.” They both knew exactly what she meant. She pulled them both further into the store and huffed in mild annoyance as she looked around. She  _would_  subconsciously pick a store with clothes she couldn’t afford, let alone imagine wearing. Human tailored, everything.

“That’s horrendous.” Dorian mumbled under his breath with a small shiver, rubbing his hands together.

“So, he’s out there,” Lavellan walked over to a dress, tilting her head at the simple, yet elegant pattern. “Just most likely dead.”

“If Solas does find him but he’s — well, dead,” Dorian cleared his throat next to her, narrowing his eyes at the dress. “Will you be okay?”

Lavellan nodded, looking up at her friend. “I’ve survived this long without Fen’Harel. I’m sure there are others out there who don’t believe in the system.” 

“Like Solas?” Dorian smirked at Lavellan. He chuckled when a she blushed, very noticeable despite her complexion. “You do realize that it’s obvious to everyone how much you stare, yes? Maker, the first time we two even met,  _everyone_  could feel the sexual tension! I’m sure Cole could too, the poor clueless kid.”

“Dorian!” Lavellan hissed, hiding her face in her hands.

“He looks at you the same way those lust-stricken men look at each other in porn,” Dorian chuckled.

“I’m leaving,” Lavellan turned away from Dorian, her entire body heating up as she walked out of the store. Dorian was close behind her, however, refusing to let her mind wander away from the subject at hand.

“If he doesn’t find Fen’Harel, you should try for him,” Dorian pursed his lips, deep in thought. “You two would look cute together. He looks like the jealous sort, too; I can’t imagine how he’s feeling, searching for the man that will take you away from him.”

“Dorian—”

“Have you thought about him naked? I have.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Have you had anymore dreams?” Dorian’s eyes sparked with mischief. “Any naughty dreams? He wouldn’t happen to be in them by any chance? I can’t imagine how boring it is to dream about your past lives and just watch yourself peeling a potato.”

“I’m not peeling potatoes in my dreams, Dorian,” Lavellan rolled her eyes, shoving her hands in her coat pockets. “I—,” Lavellan stopped walking and stared at the ground. Many things happened in her dreams. Proclamations of love, kissing, groping, grinding — “I’m not peeling potatoes.”

* * *

_“This is stupid,” a woman hissed, giggling. “We’re going to get caught.”_

_Lavellan’s ears twitched, recognizing the voice. She turned to look down the hallway at the the couple as a man spoke._

_“ **Only**  if you keep talking, vhenan,” he smiled back at her, pausing to give her a quick peck on the lips. “Now hush, love.”_

_The woman smiled and let him lead on._

_“They aren’t blurry anymore,” Lavellan breathed and followed after them._

_Up stairs, down hallways, she watched them hide in the shadows as guards passed by, saw them sneak on behind their backs until they reached the top of the fortress. She would finally get to see their faces. Lavellan pressed her hand against the door as it shut behind the couple, taking a deep breath. She was about to find out who she had been chasing after. She steeled herself and pushed the door open, the faint smell of lavender hitting her nose as she entered a room lit up by candles. Lavellan cautiously walked up the last flight of stairs, her fingers unconsciously tracing the bricks as she bound her way up. She could see the woman perfectly and it was **her**. She was a bit older, the Vallaslin was one she had never seen before. Her clan had told her that the designs changed throughout time, but how long ago was this? She had a scar across her forehead, much like the one she now bore. She watched as the two conversed in Elvhen, her fingers tracing the thin slit on her forehead as she walked the rest of the way up the stairs. She understood only very few of the words they spoke — the Elvhen they were speaking was not the same she learned._

_The man, his back turned wards her, pulled the woman across him — also her, she remembered with the beginnings of a headache — into an embrace as he mumbled more Elvhen to her. He wore shining gold armor, half his body in a wolfs pelt, was tall with broad shoulders — and his most distinct feature was his lack of hair. She felt like the breath was knocked out of her as she walked around the pair, but then felt her heart sink as they blurred out again, a loud buzzing in her ears as she was forced awake._

“ _No_ ,” Lavellan groaned as she turned over in bed, idly reaching to her nightstand and slapping an angry hand over her alarm clock. She groaned and rolled back over, cursing to herself.

 _So close._

_So freakin’ close…_


	11. Chapter 11

He was still ignoring her; ignoring her calls, texts and even the stupid bribes she sent with her friends. It had been almost a week, but still nothing. Not even a ‘message read’ notification. He was just deleting her texts without reading them, the fucking bastard. Being ignored wasn’t a good feeling; not being able to tell her friends why she was so distant felt even worse. Work was a drag, talking on the phone was exhausting, getting out of bed felt like death — the only good thing left was her dreams. They were constant now. Every night, there was a new place, new laughter, new words, a new Vallaslin, but every night, right before she would see his face, something would wake her up. She felt like this was an omen, her mind guarding her from finding out who she loved, life after life. She noticed he wasn’t always bald, at least. Sometimes, he wore long hair, usually in curls or dreads. The only thing she didn’t like were the dead animal skulls that seemed to come with the hairdo. She preferred him bald to having her finger slip into the eye socket of a long-dead creature.

Lately, her dreams had been changing. Not all were about love. The past four nights, she had been fighting. One night as an archer, another night as a warrior. Last night, she found herself in a castle, nothing like the Fortress she’d dreamt of before. Adorned in a blood soaked dress, crying over Fen’Harel’s dead body. His face was marred beyond recognition — no matter how close she got, his face was torn, bloodied and swollen to the point of making identification a hopeless endeavor. She wondered if she had been the one to kill him, seeing no others lying around, but would she cry over her lover’s dead body if she had done so?

Oh, the questions she had — and the one person who could help her with this was ignoring her!

“Yer actin’ daft,” Sera mumbled drunkenly at the bar, pointing a wobbly finger at her friend. “Wha’evr yer doin’, stahp. I’s sad. Makin’ me sad.” Lavellan waved Sera off, setting down the last clean glass and heading towards the back room.

“I’ll be right back,” she mumbled to Krem as she walked by, letting her hand drift over his shoulder.

“Don’t take too long,” he mumbled back, wirily looking at the packed bar. “I don’t know if I’ll survive tonight.”

“You will. Trevelyan is waiting for you.”

She gave his shoulder a squeeze and walked away, heading out the back door in the lounge to lean against the wall in between the door and the dumpster, her breath forming clouds of moisture in the cold air. She slid down, pulling her phone out of her back pocket before sitting on the freezing cement. She went through her contacts, frowning when all she saw was Solas’ name. She must be going mad.  _Probably the cold_ , she hoped as she looked at her call log, scrolling down to when he had called her and sighed.  _I really am acting daft_ , she agreed with Sera as she pressed down on Solas’ name. After a few rings it went to voicemail, and Lavellan knew he rejected the call. She leaned her head back against the wall and sighed. She’d leave a voicemail this time.

* * *

“Magister Pavus, I am sure we can come to an agreement.” Solas gritted his teeth, trying his damn best not to lose anymore control with the pompous Magister. Dealing with Dorian’s exuberance was a walk in the park compared to this asshole.

“ _No_ ,” The older man’s tone was steel, his mind set. “ _I will not help him with anything ever again_.” 

“I just need three names, sir,” Solas dug his nails into his scalp, biting his lip painfully. “Three  _fucking_  names, Master Pavus. Please, just—” 

“ ** _No_**.” 

With that, he hung up. Solas yelled, shoving the office phone off his desk and standing quickly. His shoulders rose and fell with his ragged breathing, his arms shaking as he glared down at his desk. He had just wasted two hours running in circles just to get three fucking names, three measly names that would have benefited both Dorian  _and_  Sera, and he blew it. Again. He had called everyone he could that had ties to House Pavus, trying to go around Halward Pavus himself for his own sanity. Dorian warned him of this being a possible outcome. Looking down at his ruined office supplies, he should have listened. There had to be another way to get the names he needed. Maybe Krem’s family could find what he needed. Solas sighed and fell back onto his seat, placing his elbows on his knees while he rubbed his tired face.

The Aclassis weren’t  _Magister_  level, or even  _Laetans_  level… There was no way they could even be seen with a Magister without tongues wagging. Solas shook his head, falling back into his chair and letting his body go limp as he tried to relax. House Aclassi would not be able to help. He needed to find another way to get those names. Maybe Josephine could call in a few favors for him — he’d be willing to even call Leliana at this point. Now he understood why humans, dwarves and elves were so rarely paired with Qunari. The Qun disregards The Search and it’s purpose whole heartedly – the only thing him and the Qunari seem to agree on. Though Tal-Vashoth appear on the registry, even then some still are stuck to the ideals of the Qun and ignore The Search all together, they still are hidden around Thedas – many still blamed for the almost war with the Wardens centuries ago. He shook his head and scrunched his nose up, unwilling to think of this further. He just wanted to sleep. Would whatever gods were left care enough of his well being to grant him at least that?

His ringtone sounded from his pocket, pulling him from his thoughts. Her ringtone, specifically. The soft melody of violins and flutes sounded throughout the silent office.  _At least the ringtone is relaxing_ , he thought bitterly as he pulled his phone from his pocket and rejected the call. He groaned, forcing himself to stand and walk out of his office door, shoving the cell in his back pocket as he traversed the mess on the ground. He moved methodically around every window and door, double checking the locks and setting the alarm before he retreated to his room. The notification sound went off in his back pocket as he shut the door behind him. He raised an eyebrow as he pulled out his phone, seeing one new voicemail. She never left voicemails. He set the phone down and placed it on speaker as he shed his clothing.

“ **New message at Twelve Fifty-Three am:**  

 “ _If you choose to listen to this message, thank you, if not… honestly, whatever, I just need to talk about my dreams. You aren’t answering your texts, are rejecting my calls, fine – but you’re the only person who knows about this shit, Solas_.” She sounded like she was shivering – was she out in the cold? Solas frowned as he pulled his shirt off, his eyes trailing over to the phone as the voicemail continued. _“I need you right now. I’m about to see him, Solas. I’ve learned so much about Fen’Harel and my past lives! I—It’s maddening, keeping is all in a stupid journal and not being able to gush over it!_ ”

Her breathless laughter rang through his ears and he groaned, letting his head fall forward as he painfully continued to listen.

“ _He wears this magnificent gold armor; it has faces on the knee caps! It’s so funny! What is extremely strange though is that he’s wearing animal skulls in his hair; and that’s only when he has hair. I’ve imagined my fingers getting tangled and touching the skulls and just, ew_ …” He chuckled as Lavellan made a disgusted sound – he could hear her footsteps echo around her.

The next sentence caught him off guard and made the laughter catch in his throat. 

“ _I prefer him bald_.”

His laughter died completely and he watched his phone, narrowing his eyes as he continued to listen. It was some time before she breathed, “ _I miss you, Solas_.” 

He shut his eyes and walked over to the phone, about to stop the voicemail but —

“ _I… I think of you too much — more than should be allowed of me. Here you are, looking for my soul mate and all I want…is you. I’m sorry, about everything. I’m sorry if me hanging up while you were trying to_ —” she sighed. “ _I wasn’t rejecting you, Solas. You were drunk or high or whatever too much Nyquil does to people. I just wanted you with a clear mind. I didn’t want you to regret whatever you were going to say and by how silent you’ve been… I am assuming that you do in fact regret it. It’s fine if you do. We aren’t soul mates, so — it’s fine. Really. I don’t want to lose you, Solas, even if it does mean remaining friends_.”

He could picture the pained expression on her face as she lied to herself, tried to convince herself that she was okay with being just friends. If she only knew…

“ _Ellana_!” Krem’s voice sounded in the background, loud enough to be nearby. She must be working. “ _It’s been almost ten minutes! Come on_!”

He couldn’t help but silently laugh.

“ _I—I gotta go, hahren. I — just let me know, okay? If we’re cool — if you want to be professional, I understand. I do want to talk about my dreams with you, when you have the chance… I’ve been having them every night and_ —”

“ ** _Ellana_**!” Krem’s voice sounded again.

“ _S—Sorry_!” Lavellan quickly apologized. He heard a loud bang and a lock turn before she spoke again. “ _I hope to hear from you soon. On nydha, hahren… I miss our scientific questions_.”

With that, the message ended and the room fell silent. He sat onto the bed next to his phone and picked it up.

“ ** _To delete this message: press five. To save it in the archives: press seven_**.”

His thumb hesitantly hung over the dial pad. He would be sealing his fate by pressing seven. He pressed down.

“ ** _Message saved for eight days_**.”

He shut off the voicemail before the machine continued speaking, falling back onto the bed and laying his phone on his chest.

Her voice was still fresh in his mind as he lay there. He imagined her bubbly laugh, her eyes creasing at the edges when she allowed the laughter to take her, the freckles framing her face, stretching as she grinned. But he had soured her beautiful expression, had made her think he didn’t care for her. That smile turning down, her breath shaking as she tried not to cry, waving off the feelings she had for him because he was embarrassed — because he had lost control and called her whilst under the influence. On  _Nyquil_  of all things. A stupid mistake. He could have avoided this.

He hurt her. Creators,  _he **hurt**  her_. Solas called Lavellan instantly, wiping away his own stray tears and cursing himself. He was such a fool. Why couldn’t he have just admitted everything since the beginning? Why did he always make things so difficult? It went to voicemail after a few moments; he assumed Lavellan was busy with work, considering how Krem had been yelling in the background.

“Ellana, I…” he sighed, grinding the heel of his palm into his eye, trying desperately to stop the tears. His voice was low, weak. He sounded like a wounded dog, running with its tail between its legs. He faltered. “I am Fen’Harel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we can all agree that this chapter could have been A LOT worse lol


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is! The chapter we've all been waiting for! :DD Enjoy~

“That’s the last of them,” Lavellan breathed out as the last patron left the bar. Only she, Sera, Krem and Isabela were left. It was nearing four am when Isabela decided to kick the last few stragglers out, and they all couldn’t have been more grateful — all but Sera, who was half asleep in a booth as Lavellan and Krem cleaned up the bar, and couldn’t care less. Isabela went around, tutting with a smirk whenever she passed the snoring elf, and locked the place down, all except the back door.

“Tonight was a good night!” Isabela smiled, looking through the register. “Money pouring back in, and the tips aren’t half bad either.”

“Must be a conference in town or something,” Krem mumbled next to her, untying the apron from his waist. “I’m just happy that I can go home now.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Lavellan shook her head and motioned towards Sera. “It’s your turn to drive the princess home.”

“Ah!” Krem frowned, stretching his arms over his head. “You’re kidding me! I thought it was your turn?”

“I did it the last two times,” Lavellan said, untying her own apron. “Now you get to do it twice.”

“You’re evil.” Krem covered a yawn as he made his way over to Sera. “Isabela, help me with the door?”

“Got it!”

Ellana smiled at her friends’ antics and pulled out her phone, watching as the pair helped the sleeping elf out of the booth. Her heart quickened when she looked down and saw Solas had called.

 _Finally_ , she caught herself thinking, and a smile broke on her face when she noticed that he left her a voicemail. The voicemail itself could be anything right now; it could be him telling her that they would stay professional, that he was here to help her with her S.O. and that was it. But he answered, and that was all she cared about at the moment. She quickly unlocked her phone, pulling up her voicemail and placing the phone against her ear, giddy with excitement to hear what he had to say.

“ ** _One new message at One O-Three am:_** ”

“ _Ellana, I_ …” She heard him sigh against the receiver, his voice low and weak as he spoke. Her brows furrowed in concern as he spoke. She hoped he was ok. “ _I am Fen’Harel_.”

Her smile fell then, her eyes wide as the voicemail gave her the usual options. She was frozen in place, phone waiting at her ear. She couldn’t form a coherent thought, mind racing at 200 miles per hour — there was no single emotion Ellana could grasp on to. Despite the sweaty atmosphere of the now empty bar, she felt cold.

She felt shaken back to reality when the voicemail repeated her options. She pressed 9, repeat. She must be mistaken; he hadn’t said—

“ _I am Fen’Harel_.”

 _No_ , she thought forcefully, disbelieving. This wasn’t real. None of this was real.

She pressed 9 again.

“ _I am Fen’Harel_.” 

Again.

“ _I am Fen’Harel_.”

 _What? N—No… No, he can’t be… I am mishearing, he wasn’t saying_ — she pleaded with her own mind. She barely registered her own inner monologue, feeling the empty finality of dread settle in her stomach.

“ _I am Fen’Harel_.”

She took a step back as the phone fell from her fingers, her hand reaching for the bar behind her to keep her from falling. Her world was spinning, her knees weak. This made no sense. None of this could possibly be happening. Maybe this was another vision? Yes, yes… it must be — her mind was playing tricks on her, forcing her through worst-case scenarios. It was just the long time spent hearing nothing from him, this wasn’t real, this was a mistake—

“Sweets?” Isabela asked with concern as she waved her hand in front of Lavellan’s face, holding up her phone for her. The screen was cracked; the voicemail call had ended. “You alright?”

Lavellan slowly nodded, furrowing her brows and pushing herself up. She forced herself to pull out of the stupor the voicemail had left her in, but no matter how hard she tried to concentrate, the world seemed unsharp, out of focus, fuzzy around the edges. Even her legs felt like the bones had been replaced with jelly as she came to stand again, unsure of her footing. “Y—Yeah, sorry. I just…”

“You look like you just saw a ghost, love. You okay? You’re pale.”

“Yeah. I’m – I’m fine.” She took her phone from Isabela and forced herself to smile. “Thanks, sorry, I… I’m gonna head home. Do you need anything else before I leave?”

“Nah,” Isabela waved her off with a smile, though worry still marked her expression. “I have everything covered. Go rest, sweets. It was a long night.”

On that they could both agree on.

* * *

_She was back in that fortress again, the smell of lavender surrounding her as she ran to the tower. She **knew** this fortress now; it was her home in her dreams._

_“You can’t ask me to do this!” She skidded to a halt before the door, her body shaking as the voices spoke behind it. “I—I won’t let you leave me again!”_

**_Again?_ ** _she thought, her eyes widening at the door. She pushed it open carefully and made her way up the stairs. Her past life was on her knees, her tear-streaked face staring up at that man. His back was turned, hands placed behind his back as he stood tall. Lavellan couldn’t see his face from this position, and she couldn’t help but wonder if tonight would be the night for his face to finally clear from the haze and reveal itself to her._

_“Lavellan,” he breathed out. “I cannot continue to do this — we can not continue this. You are promised to another — this is wrong, immoral. I should never have allowed it to continue this far.”_

_“But I love you! I choose you!” she cried, her fingers digging into the carpet under them. Lavellan watched the pair, a hand over her mouth in shock._

_“You would risk an alliance centuries in the making, vhenan,” Lavellan’s eyes shifted back over to the figure as he looked over his shoulder at her. **Those eyes. That nose.**_

_“I cannot allow you to do that.”_

_“Solas!” her past life stood up quickly, and Lavellan gasped._

**_That name._ **

_Her older self was reaching out to him as he turned completely around. “Please! You can’t just walk away — we’re meant for each other.”_

**_Oh. Oh, Creators… He—he really is…_ **

_Lavellan choked down a sob as Solas stepped away from her past life._

_“Your people need you, Lavellan,” he said, frowning. “As do mine…In another life.”_

_“Why not this one?” she cried. Solas took another step away as she moved closer to him, slowly moving towards the stairs._

_“No,” she mirrored her past life, who fell to her knees again, and watched Solas descend down the stairs._

_Together, the two versions of her – one older, one younger, separated by the ages, but both equally broken – watched his back disappear down the steps, out of the castle, out of their lives._

Lavellan was forced awake by the loss of him in her dream. She had thrown the blankets off in her sleep, her pillows in disarray. A thick layer of sweat covered her skin and her eyes moved rapidly around the room, trying to piece together where she was now. Her mind was hazy as she tried to focus on the world around her to no avail. Lavellan had to wonder if this was a dream itself; nothing felt real here, everything was hazy. Everything was a lie. _He_ was a lie.

_He lied._

“No…” Lavellan cried into her pillow, shaking with anger. Solas, he – in his past life he _had_ been Fen’Harel. No, worse; he still was Fen’Harel. The voice, the attraction, the wonder, the pull, _everything_ made sense, but still she couldn’t believe it. He lied to her, hid the truth — he knew how much time and money she’d put into finding him. How many people she’d pissed off, how many years she’d wasted on this fixation.

She screamed into her pillow, cursing at the gods. How much more torture did the heavens have planned for her? She reached for her phone, quickly dialing her voicemail, desperate to listen to the message again.

She had to make sure, had to be certain that she had not misheard.

* * *

Lavellan would never speak to Solas about this dream. She wrote it in her journal anyway.

She described it in vivid detail. She left nothing out. She had missed the obvious once before – she refused to miss any details again. How could she have been so blind before? She read over her words again and again, willing herself to remember everything. Every single, minute hint of a smell, a sound, anything was written down. 

It wasn’t long before the description of her dream turned into a dissection of her mind, trying to figure out how she could have missed it all. 

_Solas is Fen’Harel_

_FH Solas_

_FH = FEN’HAREL_

_Their voices are the same, posture is the same, height, mannerisms, the electricity in the air every damn time I see him, the color gold, the lack of hair, how my stupid dreams opened up to more past lives when I saw him bald… more him, more me, more everything…_

Lavellan groaned and pushed some hair from her face. _Even the flirting was the same… **He** held **her** like **he** held **me**._

Lavellan chewed on her pen in agitation. She didn’t want to believe it, and her mind was completely unable to process this. It was right there in front of her, all the proof she could ever need, and he had even said it himself. Yet still…

He could not be Fen’Harel.

They’d been speaking for months; he wouldn’t keep this from her! She shook her head and threw the pen on top of her notebook, standing up and pacing. Who was she kidding? Of course he would. Her thoughts continued, unbidden, as she snorted in irritation. He was Fen’Harel, named after the very trickster god himself. He would have enjoyed doing shit like this. Probably even given Solas a pat on the back for mischief well accomplished.

She played back their conversations in her mind, face contorted into an unhappy grimace. She remembered how he said ‘lying under correct circumstances’ was okay. How he maneuvered cleverly around her more prying questions. 

She should have confronted him the second she felt like she knew him. She was positive since the day that they met that they knew each other – this was it, and he hid it from her!

Her anger finally overflowed and she threw across the room the first thing her hand reached. Her phone cracked against the wall, a few pieces of glass and plastic falling around the shattered device. Hot tears fell from her face as her anger got the best of her. With every cry she tore something. With every scream she threw something. She pulled her bed apart, tore up the blankets and ripped open the pillows. With a cry of fury, she threw the mattress from the bed post, the lamp on her nightstand crushed under the mattress and splintering into tiny pieces. She kicked her dresser onto its side, the drawers cracking and letting her clothes slip out. Breathing heavily, she looked at the chaos she caused. Her eyes landed on her mirror. She could see herself shaking, her anger quickly consuming her body, her thoughts, her mind. She walked towards the mirror slowly, her breathing leveling out, shoulders slowly slumping in defeat. She placed her hand over the mirror, taking a breath and shutting her eyes. Lavellan leaned her forehead against the mirror, a choking, sad laugh escaping her lips. Eventually, she opened her eyes and took a step away from the mirror, but her eyes were playing tricks on her. Solas stood at the door, his face showing the same amount of sadness and regret it had in her dreams.

“ _Vhenan_ ,” he frowned, unmoving. “What have you done?”

With that, she tore the mirror from the wall and threw it across the room, the glass shattering with whatever sanity she had left. Solas was not there, he couldn’t be there; it was just more tricks of her mind.

“You lied!” she screamed, whirling back around to throw her fists at the wall. “You _lied_ to me!”

Her screams turned to wails as she punched the wall, again and again, more profanity spilling from her lips and more tears falling.

“You’re a fucking monster! How could you keep this from me?”

With one last, weak punch she fell to her knees, leaning her forehead against the wall and sobbing, anger finally spent. Her fists lightly pounded against the wall as she tried to gain her strength back, but she was too weak.

She collapsed in on herself, then, sobs wrecking her body.

Creators, why was she so weak?

* * *

“Before we barge into Ellana’s home, are you sure about this?” Krem and Dorian walked up the stairs of Lavellan’s apartment building. No one had heard from her for days; she hadn’t even shown up to work.

“Something is obviously amiss, Krem,” Dorian’s eyes were hard as they reached her floor. “Ellana doesn’t disappear like this for this long _and_ have her phone off.”

Krem nodded, pulling out his spare key as they walked to her door. He was worried, too. Isabela told him how Lavellan looked the last time she saw her. It had been four days since then. He wasn’t the only one worried, either — everyone was.

“Okay,” Krem breathed, standing in front of her apartment. He slid the key into the lock and let the door swing open. Dorian was the first one through, looking around at the roughed up living room.

“Makers balls. What happened?” Dorian mumbled as Krem shut the door.

The living room had been ransacked, the bookcase spilt over, lamps broken and flickering. Krem, moving carefully, walked past Dorian and to the window, pulling the blinds open so they could see better. Everything in the living room had been destroyed in some way – the couch was the only thing that could possibly still be used. The most notable thing, however, was Solas’ book and the dream journal she had been writing in. Pages torn out, the hard cover book itself ripped to shreds, the journal more intact than the past lives book itself. Once they saw that, they _knew_ something had happened to Lavellan. Dorian moved to Ellana’s bedroom door, his frown deepening when the door was forced shut. He pressed his shoulder to the door and tried to force it open himself, but to no avail.

“Help me with the door,” Dorian said, readjusting his shoulder against the wood. Krem moved behind him, angling himself to force the door open when asked.

“Ready.”

“On three… One. Two. **Three**!”

The men used all their strength for force the door open, whatever was blocking it moved enough to where they could step in, one at a time. It was a mess; everything was broken, clothes thrown about, blood smudged on the wall. The middle of the room was empty, everything being thrown again the walls and being broken in the process.

Did someone get in? Did they take anything? Was Lavellan okay? Where the hell was she?

Dorian mumbled Tevene curses to himself as he walked around the room, carefully sidestepping articles of clothing strewn across the floor, looking around at the damage.

“What happened?” Krem gasped, trying to imagine who and what could have caused this destruction.

They heard a small whimper and froze in place. It seemed to have come from the short hallway leading from her room to the bathroom. They slowly moved closer, Dorian keeping Krem a safe distance behind. Their eyes soon fell on Lavellan, leaning her body against the wall as she stared down at herself through a broken mirror piece.

What they saw drew shocked gasps from their lips.

She was disheveled. Her hair was greasy and flat and her lips bitten down, bloodied and sore. Her knuckles were raw, blood smudged across them and over much of her clothing and skin. Her eyes, her beautiful, golden eyes, once so full of wonder and happiness, were dull, blank and dark. It didn’t seem she had noticed them, yet.

They crept carefully closer, afraid she might leap like an animal trapped in a cage if they approached too quickly. Her ears twitched as she heard them slowly approach. Dorian walked over some tattered furniture and knelt down in front of his friend, heart breaking into tiny pieces at the sight. She continued to stare down at the broken glass, almost fixated on herself.

“Ellana—”

“I’m fine,” her voice was raspy, her throat dry. She sounded like she had been crying, trying to no avail to convince herself even more than them.

“I’m fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm heartless :^) Thank you to my awesome beta for helping me with this awesome heart wrenching chapter!!


	13. Chapter 13

Lavellan sat in her bathtub, knees pulled to her chest and arms wrapped around them as Krem bathed her. Dorian was trying to fix her apartment, salvaging whatever could be saved, and searched for clues as to what had caused her to become like this. She had said little to nothing since they found her, but was compliant enough with allowing Krem to clean her and her wounds.

“You gave the wall a good beatin’, Lana,” Krem said, frowning at her back. He tried to keep his voice light, attempted to brighten the mood, but Lavellan was still not responsive. Her eyes remained unfocused, staring at nothing. Once in a while she did nod, but nothing else. He tried asking Lavellan what happened, why she did this, but every time she only shut herself out more. Now, all he did was talk, trying to at least keep her interested. He took the small shifts of her shoulders and when either her ears or lips twitched as her acknowledging him. It was enough for now. She was still here. Dorian sounded a low whistle from the door, getting Krem’s attention. Dorian held up the dream journal she had carried around for the past couple of months, frowning.

“I’ll be right back, Ellana,” Krem said, pushing himself up from the floor and following Dorian further into her room. 

“A dream did this to her?” Krem whispered, taking the journal from Dorian and shifting through it.

“It’s the only conclusion I can come up with,” Dorian sighed, motioning towards the broken phone on her bed. “She broke her phone, beyond repair. That’s why we haven’t been able to reach her.” 

Krem furrowed his brows as he read through the last dream entry. The first couple of pages were unremarkable, written just like the other dreams. Then, the writing changed, turning progressively more agitated and illegible until it eventually became obscured under angry, black lines and vicious squiggles, covering entire pages, before finally giving way to torn and ripped pages. The back cover of the journal hung limp and useless in its near-empty binding.

“We won’t be much help to her if this was caused by a dream,” Dorian stated as Krem shut the journal. “We need to call Solas.” 

Krem chewed on his lip, looking back down at the battered journal. Dorian wasn’t wrong, neither of them knew anything about the dreams – at least not to the extent Solas did. They always waved Lavellan off, picked fun at her fantasies. Now, they couldn’t help her because of it. A lump settled in his throat at the thought, but Krem forced himself to swallow it down. With a sigh, he handed the journal back to Dorian, walking over to a pile of clothes thrown about in the room and finding an untorn shirt.

“Call him… hopefully he’ll come.”

“I won’t give him another option,” Dorian nodded, pulling out his own phone and walking back into the living room. Krem searched Lavellan’s room for undergarments and pants, heading back into the bathroom when he found them. He entered carefully, worried he might scare the elf.

Lavellan hadn’t moved. She was in the water, where he had left her; her shoulders were still slumped, head dipped down and eyes unfocused.

* * * 

Solas scratched his scalp, frowning as he shifted through his emails. More request denials, more questions, more disappointment. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He had no choice – he needed to call Leliana now. There was no way Josephine would be able to get him exactly what he needed anymore – not by her means, at least. He shut his laptop and stood up, picking his phone up off his desk as he walked out of the office and towards the kitchen in the front. He had clung to his phone since the night he confessed to Lavellan, waiting and hoping that she would contact him in some way. He had tried everything, had called and texted her since his confession, but had heard nothing back. He didn’t know why, didn’t understand these feelings of dread, anger and sadness. What he did feel, however, was that something was horribly wrong. He had called Varric yesterday, asking about Lavellan. He said no one had seen her in a couple days, that they all figured she just needed a break. The amount of dreams she had been having recently kept her mind distant. Him ignoring her didn’t help either, but he was willing to speak now; she, evidently, was not.

He needed to shake this feeling, needed to distract himself.

Taking out the necessary items to make his least favorite thing in the world, he set to work on making tea.

Maybe he should visit her today? Bring some treats… He shook his head in irritation and cursed, running a hand over his bald head. He should have already called on her what felt like far too long ago, but he didn’t know what to do. Did she need time? Had she even heard the message? Did his confession shut out the world? What had happened to her…?

He was startled from his thoughts as his phone started ringing. It was Dorian. He answered, turning the stove on and watching the vile brew begin to heat and simmer.

“Master Pavus,” he answered curtly, keeping his voice leveled. He leaned back against the counter. “What may I help you with?”

“ _It’s Ellana_.”

* * *

“Ready to come out yet?” Krem asked softly, looking over his shoulder at Lavellan. She had moved at last, leaning back into the bath, her head submerged under the water up to the tip of her nose. Her head broke above the surface again and rested carefully back against the edge, her eyes slowly focusing on Krem. She shook her head, the movement barely visible to Krem. Even the water around her face barely rippled. He shut his eyes and turned his head back forward, resting his arms on the edge of the bath as he leaned back. Dorian had informed him earlier Solas was on his way, and that he would be here within the hour. That was almost an hour ago. If they were going to get Lavellan to speak, he needed to get her out of the tub.

As much as it put his mind to rest that Solas might be able to get her out of this funk, it irked him how Lavellan wouldn’t speak to him about this. Would she even speak to Solas? She’d only said a few words to both him and Dorian. What if she wouldn’t speak even to the one man they could think of who might be able to help? He frowned, shaking his head. Of course she would. Solas was the only one who hadn’t made fun of her dreams, had asked her more questions, helped her understand them.

“I’m sorry,” Krem mumbled, turning his head to the side to look back at Lavellan. “If I knew that the dreams were causing this… I—I would have helped. Maker, I’m such a shitty friend,” The room fell silent again as Krem turned back around, but Lavellan’s eyes focused on him.

“It wasn’t… wasn’t the dreams,” her voice was low, her throat still making her voice raspy. Krem turned his head back around, his eyebrows raised.

“Ellana?” Krem turned completely around, tilting his head at her. “What do you mean it—”

Just then, Dorian knocked on the slightly opened door, sticking his head through. He nodded to Krem before walking back out, shutting the door completely. Krem sighed, standing up and getting a towel from the rack.

“Come on, Ellana,” Krem held the towel up, letting Lavellan stand up slowly and wrap it around herself before helping her out of the tub. “Can you get dressed on your own?” Krem looked over her knuckles, frowning at wounds. He had cleaned them, but there was still a chance that they may have gotten infected before they had arrived. He’d have to watch her carefully. When Lavellan didn’t reply, he looked at her eyes, frowning. She was unfocused again, staring past him at the wall with a blank expression. He placed his hands on her shoulders and moved his head down to her level. She didn’t give him an acknowledgement this time. His frown deepened. 

“Ellana?” he whispered, lightly squeezing her shoulders. She rapidly blinked before shaking her head, her eyes refocusing on Krem. 

“Y—Yeah… I got this…” she whispered, Krem lightly squeezing her shoulders again before stepping out, shutting the door behind him. She dressed herself, drying her hair to the best of her abilities, not caring much about tying it back. She couldn’t focus, her muscles aching as she walked around the bathroom, trying to regain her awareness. She hadn’t been like this in years, and she hating this feeling. She had hoped to never find herself in this state again, never sink this low again. She shook her head and took a deep breath. She needed to be strong now. She’d figure out how to deal with Solas later. Right now she needed to focus cleaning herself and her apartment up. She was relieved when she saw Dorian had fixed up her room nicely, or as much as was possible after the havoc she wreaked, anyway. The bloodstains, sadly, was still on the wall; she made a mental note to clean that up herself later. He shouldn’t have had to clean up her mess. She shouldn’t have let herself fall that far down this hole. She stood out of sight in her room, berating herself with what energy she had left, when she heard another voice besides Dorian or Krem speak. It sounded oddly familiar, this voice, but for some reason, she was struggling to place it.

“This was all you could find?”

“Yeah, there is nothing else here that would explain what could have set her off like this again,” Dorian sighed.

“ _Again_?”

Krem hummed. “I don’t know if w—”

The room went silent as Lavellan made herself know, clearing her sore throat before going into a coughing fit. 

_Bad idea._

The thought struck unbidden as she grimaced, trying to force down the pain and stop the coughing before she could damage her vocal chords any further. Something about that voice was still bothering her, and was concerned that her friends would talk about her like this to anyone else. 

Krem quickly rounded the corner into her room and towards her, handing her a bottle of water. She gulped it down greedily, not caring that some water spilt from her mouth and onto her clothes. She was so thirsty; she couldn’t remember the last time she actually drank something was. Lavellan panted, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe and wiping her lips against the back of her hand. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled as he took the bottle.

“How are you feeling?” Dorian came into sight and also took a step towards them, his eyes sparkling with worry. She was about to open her mouth and try to answer when she noticed another figure following closely behind the usually flamboyant man.

Lavellan’s eyes fell to Solas, and their gazes locked instantly.

Lavellan cringed, seeing the regret and sadness in his eyes. Memories of her dreams flooding back, his face no longer blurred. At the frozen waterfall, he had smiled. On the battlefield, he had cried. In the fortress, he had gazed fondly and watched from afar. They had even danced once…

She felt the rage that had consumed her the past four days start to surface again, her hands balling tightly into fists as she took a step towards Solas.

“ _You_ ,” she hissed his name like a curse, moving through her two friends to stand in front of the man who haunted her dreams. “How  _dare_  you come here?”

“ _Da’len_ ,” he raised his hands with a small shake of his head, speaking in their native tongue. “ _Let us speak privately. This isn’t meant for their ears_.” His voice was thick with pent up emotions only she could hear, only she could understand.

She glared up at him, her fingers twitching against her palm. She forced herself to look away, moving back to the door and leaning against the frame.

“ _The **last**  thing I want to do is be with you alone, Harellan_.”

She glared down at the ground, retorting in Elvish through clenched teeth. It took all her will not to punch the walls again; she  **hated**  feeling this way. She shut her eyes, leaning the side of her head against the doorframe, knowing that the only way this feeling would ever pass would be if they talked. She needed to hear the truth from him. 

She took a deep, steading breath, forcing herself to calm down against the tide of her emotions. The silence was almost deafening by the time she was ready to speak again.

“ _Speaking alone would not be wise_ ,” she finally grumbled, breaking the ice but still feeling the tension in the air. “ _But – it is needed_.”

With a small sigh, she shifted on her feet, offering a slight, but determined nod to her friends behind her.

“Dorian…” she mumbled, looking over her shoulder at her friend.

It took him a moment to register what had happened before nudging Krem’s side. “We’ll go get some food, then. Maker knows when the last time you ate was, Peaches.” Lavellan gave him a small nod before leaning her head back against the door frame.

“Anything specific you want?” Dorian asked, looking over at her.

“Apples… and some peaches, please,” she murmured, shutting her eyes and going over the scenarios in her head of where the conversation with Solas might lead.

“Of course,” he smiled big, grabbing Krem and walking towards the front door. “Fair warning: We’re not  _just_  buying you apples and peaches.” Dorian waved to them. The elves stood in silence as the two men made their way out of her apartment. Lavellan breathed in through her mouth, sighing through her nose before turning over in the doorframe and meeting the eyes of the man before her, both dream and nightmare.

She wrapped her arms protectively around herself as Solas stood on the other side of the room, watching her. There was a long silence, not uncomfortable, but not wanted either. They both had questions, but neither could find their voice. Solas’ eyes pleaded with her to say something while her own were trying to stay focus on the world around her. She was physically and mentally exhausted; the anger she had felt was still boiling in her blood. She just wanted to sleep, but right this moment, this was more important. They were alone, and neither wanted to continue on this way. Lavellan spoke, finally, her tone hushed.

“Hi… Solas Fen’Harel.”

His lips tugged into a small smile, still strained with emotion but happy that she was finally acknowledging him, speaking to him.

He took a step towards her. 

“Hello, Ellana Lavellan.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I start my second semester of school this week, so chapters will be updated either once a week or once every 2 weeks (honestly...I'm not entirely sure. Things...things haven't been well.) Thank you all for the comments, reviews, kudos, you all are amazing! Thank you so much!


	14. Chapter 14

They sat on the couch in uncomfortable silence. Their knees almost touching as they sat indian style, keeping to the center of the couch to not come too close to the edges of the couch, which took the most damage in her rage. She had let her hair down, her hands constantly running through it in her anxious state. Over and over again, she would open her mouth to speak, run a hand through her hair uncertainly, and then clamp her mouth shut again without ever making a sound. She had questions, he had answers, and they were running out of time, but still she felt paralyzed. It had been almost an hour since Dorian and Krem left, and they had said nothing but fucking hellos to one another in all this time. Solas seemed to be at a loss for words as well, as much as she could tell. His usually soft gaze was constantly shifting to different areas of the room, often lingering the shredded book that still lay atop the now broken coffee table. She’d have to apologize for that later – she hadn’t meant for it to get in the crossfire. Or maybe she had? She couldn’t remember; everything about the last four days was a huge blur. She was growing more and more tired with every breath she took, and being the only one who seemed to have questions was putting her on edge. For what felt like the millionth time, she looked up at Solas, who in turn quickly averted his gaze from her.

_This is fucking ridiculous._

Lavellan sighed loudly, letting her head fall into her hands. “Let me… Fuck, ju—just gimme your arm.”

Solas’ ears twitched at hearing her voice, louder than before, more powerful; it seemed she was gaining whatever strength had left her for the past few days back with whatever determination she had just found. Solas complied slowly, pulling the sleeve up from his arm and carefully stretching it towards Lavellan. She looked down at his hand, her brows furrowing before hesitantly taking it in her own. Her fingers ghosted over his knuckles, studying his freckles and scars. Seeing them again brought back memories – not just of her own life. She shut her eyes and shook her head quickly, fingers stiffening over his hand. She didn’t want visions right now, she needed a clear mind for this – as clear as she could possibly get it. 

“…Ellana?”

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, forcing the visions away and refocusing her eyes on his hand. Her frown deepened, as she realized her last memory was of when they were in his car. She had held the same exact hand – she had been so close.

“Fifty-three freckles,” she mumbled, lightly tracing her finger against a scar, a small smile tugging against her lips.

Solas raised an eyebrow, staring down at his own hand. How could she possibly…?

“I—I don’t know,” she looked up at him. “I just…  _know_.”

“Visions?” he asked, throat dry.

“Knowledge,” she corrected, shaking her head and shrugging before looking back down at his hand. She took a deep breath and lightly grabbed his wrist with her other hand. She didn’t want to turn the appendage over, didn’t want to see the name she knew she would find there, know that he was Fen’Harel, that he had lied. She didn’t want confirmation. She didn’t want to know – but yet, she  _did_. She  _needed_  to know. She needed to—

She shut her eyes as she turned his wrist around quickly, before she could change her mind, and let her fingers lightly trace the faded ink before cracking an eye open.

There it was. Her name.  ** _Lavellan_**.

Amber colored and, much like hers, faded, with a dull yellow outline. Her head was spinning again, and all she could say was, “You’re real.”

Solas watched as Lavellan reacted to seeing the tattoo. Her eyes moved from his face to the tattoo and back, focusing and un-focusing, as she ran hands through her hair, fidgeting. She finally pushed his hand away and stood up, pacing about her apartment.

“You’re real. You can’t be real — you’re not supposed to be real! You were dead — why wouldn’t you be dead? You never found me! Didn’t care to find me! You had to be dead, that was the only logical explanation!” She looked back over at him, her eyes panicked. “Y—you can’t… Tell me the tattoo is fake! Th—that you somehow got a tattoo of my name just for some – some  _prank_? Some ridiculous, horrible,  ** _prank_**? This isn’t funny! Why would you get a fake tattoo? Why would someone do that? Why would someone even—”

“Yes,” he interrupted her tirade and furrowed his brows before she could work herself up even more, looking down at his tattoo. “I got a tattoo of your name twenty-three years ago, just so I could torment you now. You do realize how preposterous that sounds, yes?”

She snarled and started pacing again, forcing herself to ignore the snide comment from the elf.

_No. This isn’t real. This is another dream. I’m seeing myself react to a past self who was lied to!_

“Why did you hide this from me?” Lavellan stopped pacing and yelled, pointing her finger at him accusingly. “You know how long I’ve been looking for this man! You know what I’ve given up—what I  _allowed_  to happen on the off chance that  _maybe_  Fen’Harel might be on the other side of that damned door!” As she spoke, she flailed her arms about, motioning this way and that way but nowhere in particular, gesticulating furiously.

“I was going to tell you once I concluded my business with the others.”

“The others?” Lavellan hissed, narrowing her eyes at Solas. “What of  _me_? Were you going to keep me in the dark until the exact moment you found the last person?”

“Yes,” Solas conceded after a moment’s hesitation.

“How?” She moved back to the couch, balling her hands into fists.

“Why? Why would you do that?  _How_  could you do that to me? How could you  _keep_  that from me?” she growled viciously before she visibly deflated, shoulders slumped and fists slowly unclenching. She took a step back from Solas, shaking her head in disbelief.

“I myself was not sure it was you until recently,” he admitted, rolling his sleeve back down.

“Oh,  _yes_ , because there are so many Lavellan’s with the name Fen’Harel tattooed on their motherfucking wrist!” she hissed, turning away from him. She felt like she was going to cry, could feel the pressure of the tears behind her eyes, but they never fell. She didn’t want to be angry anymore, she didn’t want to feel this way. Her head fell in her hands and she groaned. Her emotions, all these feelings, were just too much. She didn’t even know what she wanted anymore.

“The last thing I ever wanted to do was cause you pain,” Solas was now standing behind her, a hand hesitantly hovering over her shoulder. “I have been alone a long time, Ellana. You have proven to be happy without me—” 

“Does this look like  _happy_  to you?” she sounded hoarse again, looking over her shoulder at Solas’ hand that still hovered over her. When she found the strength to keep speaking, her voice was filled with the fury of a hundred loves forsaken, a hundred hearts broken. Solas backed away as the intensity of her words hit him, striking like a freight train at full speed. “Where in this apartment do you see happiness? Near the broken bed? The blood stains on the wall? The broken picture frames of my ex’s and loved ones lost?  _Where_  is the happiness here, Solas?”

Solas’ hand fell to his side as she finished, bowing his head in shame. Lavellan’s hands trailed up her arms, protectively hugging herself again as she turned her head away from him.

He had been so stupid. How could he ever have said she was happy when, from the moment they met, it was so obvious that she was not? He had watched her mood better as they spoke more; how she smiled more often when they spoke, how genuinely confused she was when he pressed her on her thoughts on his book. She hadn’t been able to speak to the others about it, that much became obvious during their talks – “They laugh, constantly. Dorian keeps asking when his fairy godmother will show up and make everything  _okay_.” – they never tried to understand. They did, at least, respect her to a degree with her imagination. She was happy; at least with him. 

With him; only with him…

He looked at her, then; really  _studied_  Lavellan like she was something foreign, something new, yet to be understood. He saw her in a new light. She was tolerable with her friends but not happy. She accepted life but she didn’t love it – not like she had since knowing him. Every conversation with him had made her soul brighter, had made her…  _happy_.

“Ellana, I—I didn’t… I hadn’t… I—” Solas’ mouth clamped shut as the door to the apartment opened quickly, Krem’s voice filling the living room instantly.

“—to check with her first, Dorian. We’re asking her to leave, you know she’s going to put up a fight.” 

Lavellan looked up at the pair as the door shut, raising an eyebrow at them.

_Leave?_

She heard Solas retreat back to the couch behind her, and she looked over her shoulder as he slumped onto the couch, his head in his hands. The two men entered her kitchen, still mumbling to each other as they set some bags down on her counter top. She returned her glance towards the kitchen before sighing softly, her hands falling to her sides. She turned, walking back over to the couch and sitting next to Solas. Pulled her legs up to her chest, she rested her cheek on her knees.

They couldn’t talk with Dorian and Krem back. They’ve have to speak later about this. Somehow.

“Ellana,” Dorian cleared his throat as he exited the kitchen, moving to the middle of the living room. “We need to talk.”

_Oh no._

“You can’t stay here.”

_‘Leave.’ That’s what he meant._

“Dorian—”

“It isn’t up for debate, Ellana,” Krem interrupted before she could speak her mind, coming up behind Dorian. “You can’t stay here, not in this condition.” 

“G—guy’s, really, I’ll be fine here!” Lavellan protested, standing up from the couch and raising her hands at the two. “I can sleep on the couch tonight. I’ll fix everything up tomorrow and—”

“No,” Dorian said firmly, crossing his arms. “What if you have another episode like this, Peaches? You need to be monitored, especially if your dreams are causing this.”

Lavellan looked at Krem, furrowing her brows and frowning, “Krem,  _come on_. You aren’t really with him on this? I told you – you know that my dreams didn’t cause  _this_.”

Krem took his time looking between the two elves before sighing, “Then what did?”

Lavellan took a step back, hands falling to her sides once more. She couldn’t say it, couldn’t tell them why. Her and Solas still had to work through this themselves; having the others know would only complicate things. She opened her mouth to reply just as Dorian interrupted again.

“This isn’t up for debate, Ellana,” he stood up a little bit straighter. “I can drop you off at Merrill’s, or Isabela’s, or even at Sera’s if you would rather be with one of them, but you aren’t going to be alone for a while. Not until we figure out what happened.”

“She’ll stay with me,” Solas intoned, effectively halting the conversation as all eyes turned to him in stunned silence. Unperturbed, he stood up deliberately from the couch, placing his hands behind his back, and pressed his lips together.

It was clear he would brook no argument on the matter.

“You?” Krem raised an eyebrow, defiant nonetheless. “Why you? What makes you think she’d rather go with you than one of us?”

 _Oh no._  Lavellan watched Solas as he walked, unhurriedly and with certainty, towards her friends. A shudder ran down her back as some deep, treacherous part of her mind forced her to notice how feral, how animalistic he seemed to appear, holding himself like that.

Her eyes widened as she noticed he was stalking her friends just like a wolf, certain of the kill, the victory of the hunt, might stalk its prey.

_Not just any wolf… The Dread Wolf._

“You called  _me_  because  _neither_  of you knew what to do,” he broke the silence once more, pulling her out of her reverie. Solas looked between the two men, barely stifled contempt hidden just beneath the surface of his cool, collected expression.

Lavellan couldn’t help but wonder if Krem and Dorian could tell how agitated he really was.

“You know nothing about what is going on. Not  _once_  have you done anything to help Ellana to understand this, only poke and prod and mock her, which only made it worse. As much as you want to help her with this, you simply can’t. You don’t understand, you’ve never tried to understand, and you  _can’t help her_.”

“Solas…” Lavellan breathed, eyes widened in shock. Did he  _really_  just do that? Did he really just say that to them? She couldn’t deny that she actually agreed with Solas on the whole; they couldn’t help her with this. Only he could, but even so, he shouldn’t have been so harsh. She returned her gaze to her friends, who appeared to be in as much shock as her. Dorian’s eyes were blazing, his fingers gripping onto the sleeves of his jacket as he tried to control himself. Krem was taken back, staring with both confusion and annoyance.

The entire room was on edge. Solas glowered down at them with piercing eyes as the two men glared back. Lavellan kept silent, watching the three argue with their eyes. Really, the two Vints had no chance winning this staring contest, yet they were stubbornly refusing to back down.

Someone would have to end this stalemate.

“I’ll go with him,” Lavellan said finally, breaking the silence, all eyes going to her.

“ _What_?” Dorian hissed.

“He not  _wrong_ , Dorian,” Lavellan took a step forward, shrugging her shoulders. “You called him, and he…” Lavellan frowned and looked at Solas.

“He has been helping, and is still helping,” she looked back at her friends beseeching them with her eyes to understand. “I would much rather stay at someone else’s place – or, you know,  _my home_  – but I understand that you’re scared… Plus, I don’t feel like arguing, I just want to rest.”

Dorian deflated, slowly nodding. “Fine, at least you’re agreeing—”

“And you  _aren’t_  bad friends,” She quickly added, glaring up at Solas. “You wouldn’t have called Solas if you were. You two came to check on me, and helped me. Thank you for that.”

Dorian’s lips twitched into a small smile while Krem continued to glare at Solas. She understood Krem’s anger; he was already doubting himself, and Solas flat out called them both out on it. She walked up to Krem and gently took a hold of his arm.

“I’ll walk you both out,” she mumbled when he looked down at her. “I’ll get a new phone tomorrow and call you, okay?”

“You better,” Krem mumbled hesitantly, allowing Lavellan to guide him to the door. Dorian followed behind them, lazily waving his hand at Solas before exiting with Krem.

“You’re already on thin ice,  ** _Fen’Harel_** ,” Lavellan hissed his name after shutting the door, turning to her soul mate. “I would advise you not to make it thinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New cover picture c: Look at first chapter for it ^__^


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry for the long wait guys! But, here it is... Chapter 15~ Enjoy and thank you all for being patient!! :D

“She’s okay now?” Varric ran a hand through his hair, relief flowing through him on finally hearing news of Lavellan. When he and Solas spoke, something at the back of his mind told him something was wrong – Lavellan disappeared a lot, admittedly  _much_  less than she used to, but she would always let someone know when she went off. No one had bothered to ask whom she had told, and by the time they realized she hadn’t this time around, none of them could figure out why. They all assumed the shock of Cullen and Surana had finally hit her; it was the only thing they thought could have possibly fazed her this time. There was no way for them to know that, in fact, it wasn’t; none of them knew the real reason, none except Lavellan and Solas, and they were both steadfastly trying to keep whatever was going on between themselves.

Something didn’t sit right and he felt a pulling sensation in his gut the more he thought about it, but he couldn’t dwell much on what was happening with Ellana while he was hip-deep in his own troubles. He knew Lavellan was safe now – he made a mental note to ask the more pressing questions when he saw her tomorrow, but only if he saw she was in a good enough state of mind to answer them without  _this_  happening again. It had only been a few days since Dorian and Krem had found Lavellan, but he had since cooped himself up in his office to work on his book. He had finally given up about an hour ago, turned on his phone and caught up on all the messages Dorian had left him.

“ _Yes_ ,” Dorian was on edge, his placid voice only masking the worry and anger he felt right that moment – the writer could tell. Letting Lavellan go with Solas wasn’t something the flashy man, nor Krem, had wanted to do, but they hadn’t had an option. Varric, from what Dorian told him, thought Solas was the better option, too. Sure, Solas didn’t know Lavellan’s history as well as the others and he hadn’t been there since the beginning of it all. Even so, if there was any chance he could help, sending her off with him was a better option than seeing her slowly circle back into that dark place.

“Good,” Varric sighed, long and loud, away from the phone. He rested his forehead in his palm and took another deep breath.

“ _Since Peaches is currently out of the ‘Help Varric fix his stupid mistakes’ squad for the time being – how is it going with Cassandra? Have you **tried**  to speak to her yet?_” 

“We’re really doing this now?” Varric couldn’t help but laugh, leaning back into his overly large chair.

“ _Peaches will be positively **livid**  when she realizes you haven’t done anything in nearly a month to fix your issue with Cassandra._”

“Good thing you aren’t going to tell her, Sparkler,” Varric grumbled, dragging a hand down his face. He groaned, shifting in his chair. “Look, I’m calling it a night. What time are we meeting at her apartment again?”

“ _Two PM, on the dot,_ ” Dorian quipped, adding a short ‘don’t be late’ before he ended the call. Varric unceremoniously dropped the phone on his desk, leaning his elbows against his thighs and rubbing his palms over his closed eyes. Maker, he was  _tired_. He spent most of what was left of the day trying to work on the next installment of ‘Swords  & Shields’ – unsuccessfully, one might add. His mind kept wandering back to Cassandra. Before he knew it, he found himself writing an entirely different story, a story of what he  _should_  have done from the beginning. He fell back against his chair, shaking his head. He was an idiot.

Varric pushed himself out of the chair, picking up his phone and car keys before shutting off his desktop and heading for door, muttering and sighing to himself all the while. All he wanted to do right now was go home and sleep; he’d think of what to do with his imploding love life in the morning. He made his way to the elevator, waited for it to reach his floor impatiently and then hit the first floor button as if it was the source of all his problems. He leant back against one of the walls with yet another sigh as the doors slowly slid shut. His eyes looked up at the numbers as they lit up; eleven floors before he got to the lobby. Plenty of time for his mind to wander on how he would he even start to fix his issue with Cassandra. How do you apologize to someone who rejects your calls, ignores your texts, blocks you on Skype, and is half way across Thedas?

Varric pushed himself off the wall when the elevator got the the first floor. The doors slid open and Varric nearly toppled back in shock.

“Ca— Cassandra!” Varric straightened out, clearing his throat.

_They fly cross-country, evidently._

“W—what in the Maker’s name are you doing?  _Here_?”

She rubbed her shoulder in what he knew from their Skype chats was a nervous gesture. She was also chewing on her bottom lip, which he would’ve found highly distracting – or at the very least adorable – if he wasn’t so shell-shocked to find her suddenly standing before him out of the blue.

“We – we need to talk, face to face, about  _this_ ,” she intoned and pulled up her sleeve, revealing her tattoo. “This isn’t something I can talk about on a computer, or on the phone. I need to see you when we discuss this.”

“Y—yeah, sure, I agree!” Varric kicked his foot out in front of the elevator door as it started to close. “Would you rather speak in my office or…?”

She stepped into the elevator next to him. “Your office will do just fine… Varric.”

Varric hid his small smile as he leaned forward, pressing the twelfth floor.

“Very well, Cassandra.”

* * *

Lavellan quietly unlocked the doors to Solas’ studio, shutting the doors behind her before entering the code for the silent alarm. She relocked the doors, re-entered the code, and headed for Solas’ room. She took notice that Solas was still exactly where he had been when she left, dead asleep on that extremely uncomfortable and old futon, in the room that smelt too much like drying paint. The blanket was half off his sleeping form, his shirtless back lightly glimmering with cold sweat. She looked up towards the Fresco on the wall across from her and took a silent step forward. He must have woken up once she left and started painting. She furrowed her brows, looking back towards Solas as he groaned. He shifted on the futon, running a hand over his head and mumbling before settling back down. He had turned his head towards her in his sleep, the pillow covering most of his face, but Lavellan could make out a small smudge of paint on his jaw, forehead, and the tip of his ear. 

As mad as she was at the man, he didn’t deserve to sleep on that thing, much less with the headache from the smell and dried paint on his face. She hadn’t even been home the past four nights, Isabela allowing her to work again since Merrill almost poisoned a patron, and had given Solas full permission to use the bed while she worked – she purposefully avoided sleeping in his bed, going to fix her apartment during the day and sleeping on her torn up couch there as much as she could get away with. She wouldn’t have minded sleeping on the futon for a couple hours until he woke up, if he’d allowed her to. She knew he would wake her and tell her to take the bed, maybe even carry her – she wouldn’t put it past him. He may be a lying ass of a man, but he showed her a certain level of chivalry; more than she had ever expected to receive, even before she knew the truth, in any case. Now it just seemed he did it because he felt like he wronged her, which he had, but she felt it more as a gesture of pity than actual care.

He played her like a violin and she danced to his tune – but that’s just what Fen’Harel does, right? Tricks, manipulations, games…

She took a deep breath and forced herself to walk away, heading to Solas’ room in the back of the studio and pushing the door open. She let the door close with a soft click, shedding her coat and throwing it over the chair behind the door. She turned to the bed, and was just about to grab the hem of her shirt to undress when her eyes fell on a glossy, golden gift bag, black tissue paper sticking out from the top with an orange ribbon tying its two cords together. A small card stuck out from the top, secured in a golden envelope. Lavellan eyed the bag warily, pulling her top off and throwing it down on the bed next to the bag as she stepped up next to the bed. She pushed the bag further into the bed, pulling herself onto the large surface and sitting with her legs crossed, her eyes never leaving the bag.

_More tricks?_

Lavellan moved the bag in front of her, pulling the golden envelope out. She untied the ribbon on the cords before going back to the envelope, pulling out the small card. It had no design, but the paper was tough, the color the same the bag, golden vines embroidered around her orange printed name. Her favorite color. She hesitantly flipped the card open, her eyes widening at the elegant handwriting. Much fancier than his last apology.

This, however, was not an apology. It was a gift.

_I think I owe you something, Ellana. I apologize that this hasn’t come sooner, but I wanted it to be special. I hope you like it._

_~Solas_

Lavellan placed the card on the bed next to her, her eyes moving back to the gift bag.

 _He… He really bought me a new scarf_? she thought, remembering the cold day they spent together what seemed like years ago by now, and then forcefully pushing the memory back to the furthest recess of her mind.

Her fingers shook as she pulled out the tissue paper slowly, hands dipping into the bag to reach the smooth texture of the scarf before pulling it out. It was exactly like he promised her. Silk, orange, and custom made, just for  _her_. Lavellan felt tears swell in her eyes as she thumbed the fabric. It looked much like the card, black vines instead of gold circled around the cool fabric, gold thread adding detail to the leaves of the vines. The orange silk practically glowed in the moonlight that shone through the window, adding to its beauty. Lavellan’s fingers moved to the right end of the scarf, thumbing the name that was embroidered on a blank space. “Lavellan” was sewed on, in beautiful and elegant auburn lettering, matching his tattoo of her name perfectly. She inspected the rest of the scarf, almost hoping that her “Fen’Harel” tattoo was somewhere on it as well… It wasn’t, she found, and she was surprised at how disappointed that revelation made her feel. Even so, Solas himself, his very essence, was written all over the scarf. His colors made the scarf. She loved it.

These were  _their_  colors, she remembered with a shake of her head. This was  _them_ , even if his name was missing on the scarf.

A thought struck her as she looked over the luxurious item in her hands once more. How was she supposed to wear this outside? This looked – Creators, this looked like something she could never afford! It basically  _screamed_  “sinfully expensive”. She couldn’t wear this outside in the cold or in the rain! How does one even clean silk?

Despite herself, Lavellan felt her lips break out in a smile and she cuddled the scarf under her chin, pressing it against her chest. Her eyes moved to scan the door, half expecting it to be cracked open, stormy blue eyes glowing in the dark, watching to see if she hadn’t torn up his gift. Given current circumstances, she would have understood the concern, but her heart sunk when she saw that the door wasn’t cracked open, or when there wasn’t a knock, nor a text or even a call minutes later. 

Her smile made way for a frown before she reminded herself that he was asleep and took a deep breath.

_Plus, he understands that you need space…_

Lavellan pulled the scarf away from her chest, her smile slowly coming back. Maybe, just maybe, she was ready. Ready to talk, at least; civil talking at that. No more grunting, rolling her eyes, flicks on his stupidly shiny, bald head. She took another deep breath and looked back at the door, curtly nodding to herself.

Yeah, she could do this.

She covered her mouth, stifling a yawn.

But first, sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When chapter 16 is posted, this fic will turn from M to E... Just a warning c: || Also, next chapter is over 5k words. Hopefully will be uploaded by Saturday but I make no promises. Just know that smut is there, both as a form of adding to the plot and as an apology for taking so long with the chapters.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* ...happy solas smut saturday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! This chapter _does_ have smut -- smut that actually adds to the plot lol **Porn with Plot** :D **HAPPY SOLAS SMUT SATURDAY**!! (I totally did not plan for this chapter to be uploaded on a Saturday. Totally did not. huehuehuee cx) Enjoy! And thank you all for the wonderful comments and kudos’! Thank you all for reading as well c:

Lavellan groaned, pulling a pillow over her head as her ringtone filled the bedroom. She didn’t want to be disturbed, she didn’t want to move, she wanted nothing but to go back to sleep. She hadn’t slept this well or felt so amazingly rested in years, and she didn’t know whether it was the bed or that – for once – she went to bed feeling happy and content. Hopeful, even.

Her ringtone went off again and she forced herself to turn over, reaching for the noisy device and pulling it off the nightstand.

“What?” she groaned into the phone. 

“ _Hey, Peaches_ ,” Dorian’s voice sang through her ear, his voice a pitch higher than usual and an all to knowing smugness behind it. Lavellan ran a hand through her hair, itching the shaven side before pushing herself up. “ _Guess who’s in town?_ ”

“By the tone of your voice,” Lavellan stretched a hand over her head, a small whine escaping her lips, “I’ll have to go with your father.”

“ ** _No_** _, thank the heavens,_ ” Dorian snorted, mumbling a small curse before he went on. “ _Cassandra_.”

Lavellan’s eyebrows pulled right up into her hairline in astonishment, any remnants of sleep knocked out of her by the mention of the mysterious woman. “Cassandra? As in Cassandra  _Pentaghast_?”

“ _None other!_ ” Dorian laughed but quickly quieted. “ _And, with that said, love… He won’t be able to make it at two—_ ”

“That’s fine. I’m sure we can get Fenris, or even Krem to—”

“ _And neither will I_.”

“What? Why not?” Lavellan came up short and rested an elbow on her knee, creased forehead sitting in her palm.

“ _A friend in Denerim needs me. I’m heading to the capitol now, actually. I should be back by the end of the week._ ”

“Fuck,” Lavellan let the curse fly out of her mouth without thinking. So much for getting her apartment ready in the next week.

“ _You could ask Solas to—_ ”

“ **No** ,” Lavellan gritted her teeth, her voice stern. She mentally cursed herself for being so sudden with her answer, she should have at least made up an excuse. Her friends still didn’t know about Solas being Fen’Harel – they wouldn’t know for a while if she had it her way. She wouldn’t even know how to go about telling them, never mind how they would react if they knew the reason why her apartment had been torn apart.

“ _Alright, have it your way,_ ” Dorian cleared his throat. “ _I’m sorry, Ellana_.”

“No, no! You don’t need to be sorry,” Lavellan sighed, rolling her eyes and smiling. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see if Solas can help, though he’s busy trying to figure out your and Sera’s matches.” 

“ _Do not bother that man, Lavellan!_ ” Dorian warned, a playful tone in his voice, “ _He is on a serious mission!_ ”

Lavellan laughed, “Take care of your friend, Dorian. Text me when you get to Denerim so I know you’re safe.”

“ _Will do, Peaches. Take care._ ”

With that, Dorian hung up.

“…You too,” She said once the call ended. Lavellan bit her lip, letting her phone drop to her side and falling back onto the bed. She looked towards the window, sunlight peaking through the dark drapes. She pursed her lips and reached for her phone, picking it up to look at the time.

**10:32 AM**

_I’ve still got some time to sleep…_  Lavellan thought as she pulled the blanket over herself and snuggled back against the pillows again.

* * *

_“You aren’t holding the bow correctly, Princess,” a voice growled behind her, annoyed. Lavellan groaned, her head falling dejected, the longbow in her hand slumping down with her shoulder._

_“You aren’t exactly making this easy, Fen’Harel.” Lavellan hissed, shutting her eyes. She rolled her shoulders and stood straighter, aiming the bow at the target twenty yards away. Fen’Harel walked around her in a circle, tutting every time he looked towards her feet._

_“If you have something to say, just say it,” she hissed, glaring over her shoulder at the man. “I have no time for your games.”_

_“If I recall, you asked for me, **specifically** , to help you with this,” he met her glare with one of his own. “So let me help you.”_

_Lavellan continued to glare, biting her tongue to keep her nasty remarks to herself. Fen’Harel’s glare turned into a smirk as he stepped closer to her._

_“May I?” he held out his hand towards the bow. Lavellan begrudgingly handed it to him, taking a step back and watching._

_“You’re holding this bow as one would a short bow,” he commented, taking a different stance than the one she had been in. “You’re using a recurve bow – an entirely different stance is needed.”_

_“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” she grumbled, digging the heel of her foot into the dirt. He pulled out an arrow from the quiver attached to his back and hooked it into the string._

_He turned his head, that smug smirk she knew all too well taunting her._

_“Because you didn’t ask.”_

_He let go of the string and let the arrow fly straight at the target. It hit the bull’s eye, but didn’t stop until it was half way through the thick layer of hay. Lavellan stared in awe at the target, unaware for the moment that Fen’Harel had stalked around her. He quickly grabbed her from behind, the bow falling from his hands as Lavellan squealed in alarm._

_“A Princess should never be caught off guard,” he whispered roughly against her neck, lightly scraping his teeth against the tender flesh he found there. Lavellan laughed, a surprised, breathless sound, and placed her hands over his around her waist._

_“Nor should a Princess be alone in the woods with the **fearsome**  Fen’Harel,” she quipped back, earning herself another nip to her neck that made her shiver. She giggled, moving her hand to thread through his hair behind her as he continued to nip and suck at her neck. She bit back a moan, her lips pulling into a smile of bliss as Fen’Harel bit down harder. He kissed his mark, and she finally released a sigh of pleasure. He grinned against her skin, victorious, and captured her chin between his fingers before pulling her around into a kiss._

_“You’ll get more once you shoot the arrow correctly, vhenan,” he mumbled, pressing his forehead against hers. “I have faith in you.”_

_Lavellan snorted in irritation, rolling her eyes and pushing away from Fen’Harel._

_“Lavellan?”_

_“I wish people would stop saying that,” she frowned, picking up the bow and glaring down at it. “’We have faith in you’. Do people even realize that that just adds even more pressure?”_

_Fen’Harel tilted his head, watching his love as she cursed._

_“Do people realize I don’t want this?” she gestured around herself with her hands. “I never asked to become Queen. I—I don’t want it! And that stupid oaf my parents picked out for me – ugh! I **hate**  this.” Her glare than turned to him._

_“Why haven’t you stopped my parents?” her voice was softer than the edge in her eyes. She looked down at the bow, her eyes softening. “Why – why didn’t you fight for me?”_

_“Lavellan…” Fen’Harel shut his eyes and took a step towards her, clearly pained. “If I were to interfere in any way, you **know**  what would happen.”_

_Lavellan groaned, turning away from him. “Yes, yes. War. War this and war that – war, war, war, war, **war** …”_

_“It’s your own fault,” Fen’Harel smirked. “If you hadn’t become so attracted to me—”_

_“I think you’ll find it’s always **your**  fault,” her lips quirked into a playful, venomous smile. “Remember?”_

_Just as quickly as the playful Lavellan appeared, she disappeared once again. Her brows furrowed as she looked down at the bow in her hands, sullen once more._

_“Hey, come here,” Fen’Harel started, looking at his lover with concern as he captured her in his arms. He nuzzled his nose against hers before pressing his lips against her forehead. “You know if I had it my way, we would be together, vhenan.”_

_Lavellan sighed, moving her head to rest against her lover’s chest._

_“I know,” she mumbled, moving her hand to lie against his chest. She thumbed the wolf pelt her forehead leaned against, smiling at a memory. Fen’Harel kissed the top of her head, nuzzling his nose against her._

_“Now come,” Fen’Harel mumbled into her hair. “You still have a lot to learn before nightfall.”_

_“Wait,” Lavellan moved the arm on his chest around his waist, pulling him close and breathing him in. “I — I need you to know. I…”_

**_I love you…_ **

_“I know,” he mumbled as her words failed again, pulling away enough to capture her lips in a kiss. Lavellan dropped the bow, moving her hands up his chest to wrap around his neck and hold him close._

**_Never leave me, Fen’Harel…_ **

_“Ar lath ma.”_

Lavellan turned over on the bed, eyes slowly opening as she took in her surroundings. She felt empty and cold, where in her dream she had been full and warm. She pulled the covers closer, tucking them under her chin as she shivered. She shut her eyes, thinking back to the dream.

**_I love you… Never leave me, Fen’Harel…_ **

_What was that?_

Lavellan was a Princess in a past life, possibly many millennia ago, and Fen’Harel was – what? Her lover? Her rival ruler? Was that even a thing? Fen’Harel was a God—

_But Fen’Harel is just a name; anyone could be named Fen’Harel. Solas, for example – Solas Fen’Harel. There is no Solas in the tales of our Gods – Solas isn’t **the**  Fen’Harel, he’s just named after him._

Lavellan cringed, shaking her head. She wasn’t awake enough to think that Solas could be Fen’Harel – The Gods were real, she believed, but surely not  _this_  real…

“Ugh!” Lavellan groaned, kicking the covers off herself. “Enough, Ellana.”

She pushed herself up, scooting to the edge of the bed and letting her legs fall over the edge. Lavellan rested her hands on the edge of the bed, taking a deep breath and rolling her shoulders and neck. She pushed herself off, furrowing her brows as she stepped on some of the black tissue paper from last night. She picked up the stray sheets, walking over to where she placed the bag and scarf on Solas’ dresser and set them back in the bag. Lavellan looked back down at the scarf, letting her fingers trail over the silk. She still couldn’t believe he had actually bought this –  _commissioned_  this – for her. She couldn’t help but smile, picking up the scarf and wrapping it around her shoulders. She walked to the private bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. The scarf looked amazing. In the dim light, it had already been breathtaking, but now? It knocked the wind out of her. It was so much clearer, the orange so much brighter and radiant. Whenever she looked at this she knew she would smile. It was hard not to – not only because of the colors, but also the reason he got it for her. Yes, he did bleed through her scarf, but he didn’t have to buy her a new one. Though, she had to admit, she  _had_  purposefully refrained from buying a new one because he said he bought her one. Lavellan pulled the scarf off, walking back out to the bedroom and resting it back down on the dresser with a soft smile.

She returned to the bathroom to take a long, hot shower. Solas’ shower head beat the crappy one at her apartment ten times over. She couldn’t even detach hers from the wall. A new shower head had always been somewhere near the bottom of her list whenever she went shopping, but now, since her apartment was being redone, she had a real excuse other than ‘the shower head sucks’ to buy a new one. She nodded to herself and she stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her body. She’d buy a new shower head when she went to buy paint later, she decided. Lavellan pulled out a pair of sweat pants and a v-neck shirt – she had nowhere to be. She even asked Isabela if she could take off work tonight because she wanted to get more done on her apartment today.

 _That isn’t going to happen_ , she thought with a sigh.

Strange to think that she had been begging Isabela to let her work just a couple of days ago, and now she wished she could get the night off again.

Lavellan grumbled to herself and got dressed, checking her phone for any missed messages once she was done. She had one text from Varric.

_—Varric [12:45 PM]_  
_ill make up not being at the apartment today, i swear.  
_ _anything you need, peaches, day or night, just call._

_—Ellana [2:54 PM]_  
_dont even worry about it varric!_  
_im so glad cass is there!  
_ _good luck~ fingers and toes crossed!_

Lavellan sent off the text with a smile on her face, falling back down against the bed and locking her phone. She wondered how it was going with them. She was certain Varric would be trying his hardest to work things out with Cassandra – whether or not his friends pushed him. She knew he was trying in his own way, and she wished him the best. He deserved to be happy. She hoped Cassandra could give him that.

Lavellan hopped off the bed, quickly spreading out the sheets and making the bed before heading out of the room. She peaked around Solas’ current room – dry paint was scattered over the tarp near the wall, the futon pulling back into a couch, blanket folded on the edge, pillow on top of it. Lavellan frowned and turned, looking towards the office. She took a step towards there before she heard a small curse from the kitchen. 

_There you are._

“Good morning,” Lavellan smiled, blowing some damp hair out of her face before snorting. “Or afternoon, technically. Didn’t think I’d sleep that long.”

Solas looked up from his laptop, eyebrows raised in curiosity as Lavellan passed behind him, walking to the fridge and pulling out a carton of orange juice. She went about making her own breakfast, well aware of Solas’ eyes glued to her. Lavellan couldn't help but roll her eyes as she went to the fridge, exchanging the carton of orange juice for milk.

She didn't blame Solas for being stunned; the last thing she had said to him didn't exactly constitute her getting over his deception easily. Truth be told, she still wasn't over it, and if they ever did want to break down these walls between them, they needed to communicate.  _She_  needed to communicate. 

Lavellan stood up straight, shutting the fridge door and raising an eyebrow at Solas. He continued to stare, almost hypnotized by her presence. Lavellan raised a shoulder in an attempt at a half shrug, motioning her free hand towards him.

“Well?” she finally said, an exasperated sigh falling from her lips as she walked back towards the counter and poured milk over her cereal. Solas stayed silent behind her and Lavellan couldn't help but wonder if she had somehow broken him.

_Is me speaking to you **really**  this shocking after what you gave me last night?_

Lavellan stashed the milk back in the fridge, opening a drawer next to her bowl and pulling out a spoon before holding it between her teeth. She picked up her bowl and glass, heading to the kitchen table.

She set her glass of orange juice down on the table and plopped down on the cushiony chair before it, bowl of cereal in hand. She leaned back against the chair, crossing one leg over the other, and started to eat. She raised her eyebrow at Solas when she realized that he was content to sit in silence staring at her and pulled the spoon from her mouth, placing it in the bowl.

“What?” she finally mumbled. “Do I have something on my face?” A hand went up to her cheek, rubbing lightly, before moving to the other, just in case.

Solas shook his head, clearing his throat and looking back down at his laptop. “Aren’t you supposed to be at your apartment right now?”

“Ah!” Lavellan nodded, setting the bowl down. “I  _was_ , but Dorian called a few hours ago. Cassandra’s in town and, well, it appears her and Varric are busy working things out.”

Solas’ eyes caught hers, his ears twitching in anticipation and wonder.

“Ms. Pentaghast?  _Here_?”

“Yep,” Lavellan said, her lips popping at the ‘p’. “Varric is  _somehow_  fixing his mistake.” Lavellan’s lips twitched as she looked at Solas. “And I thought, if they can do it… We can at least try, right?”

Now she had already reached the hard part. How do you get over a situation like theirs, or even start trying? Solas’ deception trumped Varric’s. Two weeks with minimal contact was different than nearly four months with sideways glances, midnight calls, personal dilemmas, a heated moment in a freezing car, and a drunken call that nearly turned to  _more_. They were on a completely different level than Varric and Cassandra. Her trust had been completely shattered while with her friend had barely breached it.

“First things first…” Lavellan uncrossed her legs, leaning her arms against the table. “Thank you for the scarf. It’s…” She bit her lip as she tried to find the right words, lightly tapping her nails again her bowl.

“You do not like it,” Solas hid his head behind his laptop, barely hiding the dejection in his voice.

“I love it!” she spoke keenly, her bright smile matching her voice. “Solas, you put a lot of thought into it. When you said you bought me a new scarf, I honestly didn't think it would look so unique! So – so  _you_. And… and  _me_.”

She leaned back in the chair, hiding her smile behind her knuckles.  “I love it. Thank you  _so_  much. I'm so scared I'll ruin it, to be honest.”

During her rant Solas shut his laptop, silently watching her rant with an appreciative smile on his face. Lavellan pulled her feet onto the edge of the chair, wrapping her arms around her legs and looking down at her thighs. Now that the ‘thank you’ was out of the way, she had no idea how to go about this, and by Solas’ silence, he must be feeling the same.

“Let's,” Lavellan began hesitantly and furrowed her brows, tilting her head. “Let's start from the beginning, I guess. Unless you have an  _easier_  way to talk about this?”

Solas shook his head, getting comfortable in his own chair. “How far back would you like to go?”

“Okay,” Lavellan took a deep breath.

_All on me, then. Awesome._

“Let's start with when we met,” Lavellan looked at him. “You knew, didn't you?”

“I was not certain at that time. It wasn't until recently that I,” he stopped himself, shook his head, but not at her, and mumbled something under his breath before looking back at her. “I knew it was you.”

“And why exactly did you keep the truth from me?” Lavellan shut her eyes, trying not to let her emotions get to her again. She knew his next answer had a high possibility of angering her, but she refused to lash out. If she needed to walk away, she would. Solas would understand.

“For selfish reasons,” he confessed after a pause, looking down at his hands. “For one, I didn’t want to lose focus on setting the others up with their significant others.” 

“There is such a thing as time management,” she grumbled, keeping her eyes locked on him. 

“Yes,” he agreed, but remained silent. No further explanations, no more words, just a sad look in his eyes as he stared at her from across the table. Lavellan took a shaky breath, forcing herself to look away.

“Why did you leave a voice mail? Why didn’t you come over or — or wait for me to call back or come to the bar or—”

“I am a coward,” he stated plainly, meeting Lavellan’s gaze. “I wasn’t scared to tell you in person, I wasn’t scared to tell you at all. I just – I could not bear to see the look on your face when you heard the truth.” Lavellan looked down, her face void of emotion as she took in his words. 

“I didn’t want to tell you that way, but I could not put myself through—”

“If you had been there,” Lavellan started, moving her hands to look down at her healing knuckles. “If you had told me face-to-face, I wouldn’t have reacted as badly as I did alone. I might have even been okay, more understanding. But you just  _called_  and said ‘I am Fen’Harel’ and that was  _it_. Nothing else, no text or call o—or  _anything_. You could have saved us  _both_  this pain, Solas.”

“I know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I could have done more, should have done more. But I am a coward, and I am so sorry.”

“Apologizing won’t do you any good, so please, if not for me, then for yourself,  _stop_ ,” Lavellan spoke firmly, glaring at Solas. “I do not want to hear it anymore – I’m sick of those words. Apologizing is getting us nowhere.”

Solas’ ears twitched and fell at her tone, eyes downcast as he took in her words.

“What did you think would happen if you told me?” Lavellan continued and moved a hand to her shoulder, squeezing it tightly to try and relieve the tension that was building there. “Or what wouldn’t have happened?”

“I don’t know,” Solas admitted, leaning forward and pressing the heels of his palm against his closed eyes. “This is the one thing I  _do not_  have an answer to, Ellana. The day I saw you – saw your tattoo – I couldn’t think clearly. I spent so long looking for you, and the next thing I know you’re standing in front of me.” Solas picked up his head and motioned with both hands towards her.

“I never thought I would see you. For years I prepared what I would say, what I would do – but I never thought this would be how we would meet. Because of my book, your friends,  _Varric_ —” Solas snorted and shook his head. “Once I had returned from Tevinter, I put my own search on hold to help others, and by time I turned thirty-five... I gave up. I searched everywhere for you, Ellana – more places than what I described in my book. I thought you to be dead, or so deep in hiding that I just…”

Solas let out a long sigh, falling back against his chair.

“I didn’t think you existed anymore.”

Lavellan frowned, shifting in her seat. “You would think, with such strong emotions like those, you would have been thrilled to see me.”

“I was thrilled to see you. I just didn’t expect the first time we met would be in the presence of others,” Solas sighed and ran a hand over his head. “I have a duty to my clients, I can’t put my needs before theirs. If it had been just you alone, I would have acted  _differently_.”

“But,” Lavellan readjusted herself, looking at Solas. “I am one of your clients.”

“Believe me, if I had it my way,” he mumbled, dropping his hands against the table, keeping Lavellan’s gaze. “I would have been with you the moment I saw you.”

Lavellan didn’t know what came over her then, but she stood, walked around the table and knelt down beside Solas, ignoring the confusion written across his features. She looked up at him from her position on her knees, keenly aware of him watching her, grabbed his hands and softly pulled him to properly face her. She leaned back on her heels and gazed unerringly into his eyes.

**_You know if I had it my way, we would be together, vhenan._ **

“I know.”

* * *

“How are there so many different shades of white?” Lavellan grumbled, glaring down at the white paint pallets Solas handed her. After Solas had explained more of why he didn’t tell her, Lavellan came to the conclusion that this wasn’t something she, or even him, could easily overcome in one single sitting. Solas’ lie had created scars that would take some time to heal, but thankfully, he was more than willing to try and get back in her favor. She understood – though she hated to admit it – why Solas kept the secret to himself. If she had known the second they met that he was her soul mate, she may have tried to convince him to drop her friends cases to spend time with her. She felt awful thinking it, but it would’ve been tempting, and she knew that was what she was like. She was needy, lonely, and unhappy. She had always assumed that Fen’Harel would steal those feelings away, making her feel loved, wanted and safe with just a look or a touch. Now, she wasn’t so certain that he could fix those emotions with a single kiss or touch, but little things, like looking for paint, made her feel a bit more satisfied than she had in years.

“You’re an artist!” Lavellan grouched, though she was smiling, and shoved the pallets in front of his face. “Which one is  _actually_  white? Like  _snowflake_  white, or like the color of a white car?  _Snow white_  – but not the yellow kind!”

Solas chuckled, taking the pallets from her and sorting through them. Lavellan’s eyes sparkled as she watched him hold up the shades against each other. She wondered if he actually saw a difference or was just trying to look like he knew what he was doing.

“Why not a different color?” he suggested, eyeing the colored pallets on the wall next to them. “Or  _shade_.”

Lavellan snorted. “You’re the artist! You should have known your  _favorite_  color is a shade.”

Solas rolled his eyes but returned to the other colors. “Again – why not a different color? You love orange.”

“I do,” Lavellan turned to look at the other colors, a small frown on her face. “But I don’t own the apartment. I can’t just paint the walls a different color whenever the thought strikes me – unlike you, Mr. Fresco.” 

“Just pick a white, then,” Solas shrugged, looking back down at the white pallets. “To me, they are all different – to you, and your landlord, they’re practically identical.”

“Yeah, but—”

“How about this,” Solas said, putting the pallets back down in their slot on the rack. “We buy a couple samples and paint them over your room. We’ll see which comes the closest and come back tomorrow and buy bigger cans.”

“Are you sure?” Lavellan frowned, her ears dipping down with her lips. “I don’t want to trouble you more—”

“I’m the reason you’re in this mess,” Solas said grimly. “I’m happy you’re finally allowing me to help.”

Lavellan nudged his side, shifting her scarf a little so he could see her smile. “Don’t think about it anymore, okay? Happy thoughts from here on out. We’ll only resort to ‘Grim and Fatalistic’ Solas when we need to get out of a friendly gathering.”

Solas rubbed the spot Lavellan nudged and rolled his eyes. “Of course, Ellana.  _Anything_  to get you out of social events.”

Lavellan stuck her tongue out at him before looking back at the color pallets. “Where do we get the samples?”

* * *

The ride to Lavellan’s had been surprisingly quick, figuring out which paint to use was even quicker and before either knew it, they were back at Solas’ studio.

“You can have the bed tonight.” Lavellan mumbled as Solas held the door open for her. She mumbled a ‘thank you’ as she walked in, waiting for Solas to answer as he shut and locked the door.

“No.”

“Come on,” Lavellan tried for a smile, poking his shoulder. “It is your bed. You should sleep on it, no matter who is here.”

“The futon is possibly the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever slept on,” Solas looked over his shoulder at Lavellan as he typed in the passcode for the alarm. “What kind of man would I be to let my significant other sleep on that monstrosity?”

Lavellan opened her mouth before shutting it again with a loud ‘click’ of her teeth. Solas raised an eyebrow, his smirk hidden behind his shoulder as Lavellan’s cheeks flared.

_Significant other… Creators, it’s practically official now… I can’t believe—_

“N—No! Hey,” Lavellan shook her head, forcing those thoughts from her mind as she saw that smug, wolfish smirk he always wore in her dreams plastered on his face. “I see what you did there and I will not allow it! You’re  _my_  significant other, too! You can at least sleep in the bed—”

“With you?” Solas’ wolfish smirk, initially restrained but now clearly visible, only grew as he walked past her towards his current living area. Lavellan’s cheeks were stained red as she followed after him.

“Solas, come on. You’ve spent a week on that thing. Just one night,  _please_.”

“No, Ellana,” Solas turned his back to her, pulling off his coat and throwing it over a stray chair next to the futon.

“Solas—” Lavellan bit her lip as Solas started to undress, pulling his short-sleeved shirt over his head and smirking yet again when he saw Lavellan watch. “Just take the bed, dammit.”

“Nope,” he started to untuck the long-sleeved undershirt from his pants, raising an eyebrow at Lavellan as she quickly spun around.

“You’re acting like… Creators, your acting like Fen’Harel himself, you  _ass_ ,” Lavellan crossed her arms, growling. “I’m not leaving until you say yes.” 

“Fine,” Solas’ smirk surfaced again as he pulled his last remaining shirt over his head. “Stand there and  _pray_  to me that I, Fen’Harel, do not come up behind you and—”

Lavellan’s cheek’s flared up again as she cursed and stomped away, Solas’ amused laughter ringing after her.

_Damn that man…_

* * *

_“Mar rodhe ir’on.”_

**_That voice…_ **

_“Asha’rajain.”_

**_Solas?_ **

_Lavellan blinked rapidly, only slowly becoming aware of her surroundings, vision blurred by tears of torment. She blinked again, looking up towards the ceiling. Painted walls surrounded her, but she could barely register them as familiar before—_

_Lavellan bit her lip, holding back a whimper as teeth scraped against her inner thigh. Her eyes moved down to the man crouched between her legs, a knowing, smug, wolfish smirk plastered on his lips as he watched her with piercing blue eyes._

_The glistening golden armor that he had always worn was gone, thrown about the rotunda in haste, kneeling in nothing. Her own clothes – metallic green cloth, crushed flowers and ribbons – were thrown haphazardly over the chair at the desk. His unruly dreads cascaded around him as he watched her like prey. He licked his dry lips and silently cackled, his smirk only growing as he watched her squirm in anticipation._

_His lips moved, elvhen words lost in time, before he returned to his teasing ministrations. Lavellan shivered, a throaty moan escaping her lips as lover nipped at her inner thigh once more. A deep, quiet chuckle reverberated in his chest, and he pressed his smirking lips against her olive skin as she mumbled a curse at him._

**_Dread Wolf take you, you tease._ **

_Her fingers gripped at the edge of the cushions, her eyes narrowing down at Fen’Harel. He kept whispering sweet words in that deceptively sweet tongue – so foreign, and yet so familiar – words that made her skin burn and clit ache. Then, before she could speak, he licked at her – a slow, almost lazy drag of his tongue that seemed to touch her inside and out, all at once. Her head fell back against the couch, a long, pleased moan falling from her lips._

_He slid his hands beneath her rear and raised her up to his mouth to get at her more thoroughly, her legs hooking over his shoulders. For a while, he merely dragged his tongue in languid upward strokes, lapping at her with an easy rhythm, mumbling small nothings to her as she writhed and moaned under his attentions. She wriggled around, trying to get more friction, and slid a hand down between her legs, a hint for him to move from her clit so she could stroke herself. He continued to tongue her instead, grabbing her hand and intertwining their fingers, unrelenting in his assault. Footsteps echoed above them and Lavellan bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. She covered her mouth with her free hand as the footsteps neared the edge of the railing._

_“Mar rodhe ir’on,” his voice vibrated against her, low and guttural. “Asha’rajain.”_

**_Those words…_ **

_The lanterns in the room dimmed as the footsteps moved away. Lavellan let out a relieved breath before her lips were captured by Fen’Harel’s. They exchanged more words, though the meaning was mostly lost to her, whilst his eyes kept creeping towards the railing above. His stormy blue eyes were full of worry and concern. She smiled and captured his lips, cutting him off from whatever he was saying, and moved to his ear, nipping at his earlobe._

_“Ar lath **ma** , vhenan…” she nuzzled against him before smirking and pulling away, wrapping a hand around his neck and kissing his knuckles. “Vera em su tarasyl.”_

_There was a look of pure awe on his face before he blinked, his lips curled back into that smug wolfish smirk, sharp teeth glimmering in the dull light._

_“Ma nuvenin, Ma’sal’shiral,” he plunged two fingers into her, curling forward just as they reached the second joint. Fen’Harel covered her mouth with his own, swallowing her cry of pleasure. Their lips moved together slowly as he set a pace. He growled against her mouth and bit her lip whenever she would buck her hips, urging him to go faster._

_Eventually he chuckled almost cruelly against her lips, pulling his fingers away from her dripping core and licking up her juices. Lavellan worried at her bottom lip, watching him with lust filled eyes as he licked his fingers. Fen’Harel smirked at her, sucking the last of his fingers before moving back to her lips. Lavellan hungrily kissed him as she guided him onto the couch, refusing to part from him as she crawled over him, her own taste on his lips making her groan with desire._

_He mumbled against her lips, pulling her down flush against his chest, nipping and snickering into the kiss as Lavellan cut off every sentence. Lavellan parted from him, leaning her forehead against him and taking a quick breath._

_“Ar lath ma,” she mumbled, a tired, lazy smile on her lips as she brushed her nose against his._

_“Emma lath,” he pecked her lips, tucking some stray hair behind her ear. He lightly caressed her cheek, staring at her lips before trailing back up to her eyes. Lavellan’s breath caught in her throat as she watched Fen’Harel’s expression. He said more in one short, loving glance than he had in sitting with her for hours. He saw her as a Goddess, he worshipped the ground she walked on and would to everything in his power to protect his love. Lavellan placed a hand on his chest, resting her chin on it as the other came up to trace the scar on his forehead. Fen’Harel caught her hand, intertwining their fingers again before kissing each of her knuckles._

_“Ar lath ma, Ma’sal’shiral,” he said before pulling her in for another kiss. And another, and yet another until those short and caring kisses became long and heated, Fen’Harel growling, pulling and pushing Lavellan until she was in the perfect spot. He smirked when she pulled away, her back arching and breath coming out in a quiet, long moan, nails digging into his shoulder blades as she stretched around his thickness. He gripped her hips tightly, his head falling back against the armrest as Lavellan experimented with rolling her hips. She set the pace, holding Fen’Harel down against the couch and stopping whenever he tried to take control. She looked down at the other elf, leaning down and taking hold of his bottom lip between her own teeth. She pulled on it, lightly biting down and moaning as Fen’Harel bucked his hips up. She let go of his lip, meeting his gaze and smirking at how impatient he was. He placed a hand on the back of her neck to pull her back down into yet another searing kiss, ignoring her brief protest of taking control before she all but melted against him. Her head fell, resting in the crook of his neck as he thrust into her. She mewled against his neck, shutting her eyes tightly and biting her lip so she wouldn’t make more noise._

_He found her mouth once more, bumping his nose against hers before capturing her lips, pulling on her bottom lip and hissing when her caressing touch over his ribcage turned to nails raking down his abdomen, digging into his skin and dragging downward. Small pebbles of blood fell from the marks, Lavellan moving to her lover’s chest to kiss and lick up every single drop. She smirked up at Fen’Harel’s blissful face, blowing on the wet trails she left. During her ministrations, his thrusting had stopped, taking pleasure in what Lavellan was doing to him._

_“La—Lavellan,” he gasped as he forced open an eye to look at her, his nails digging into her thighs. He jerked his hips up again, causing a moan to fall from both of their mouths before Lavellan hastily covered them. There had been no footsteps on this side of the fortress since the first distraction – she didn’t want to chance someone coming back. Lavellan frowned, sitting up and speaking in elvhen to her lover, her eyes worriedly moving around the upper levels. Fen’Harel sat up, resting his palms on her cheeks and smiling at her. That one smile erased any more lingering doubts. She smiled back, her hands trailing up his chest before hooking around his neck and pulling him in for more passionate kisses._

Lavellan shot up in bed, her mouth hanging open as she panted, a thin layer of hot sweat covering her body. Her pants were twisted awkwardly around her hips and her shirt had ridden up below her breasts and stuck to her body. She pushed herself out of the bed, fixing her clothes and pulling her sweat soaked hair up in a bun as she started to pace around the room. She pulled her top off, fanning herself with her hand as her mind battled with that she just witnessed— dreamt—  ** _whatever!_**  

_Oh my fucking **god**. What the  **fuck**  was that? D—Did I just—?_

_No, no, no, **nooooo**! Oh, fuck  **no**. I did not just see— I did not— I  **did**! Oh, Creators — we  **fucked**!  **He said my name**! I  **liked**  it! I—_

“Ellana?” Solas knocked on the door.

“ _Ah_!” Lavellan tripped over her own foot, falling onto the carpet with a thud.

“Is everything okay?”

“Fine!” Lavellan chirped, pushing herself onto her knees and dusting herself off.

“Are you—”

“Solas,” Lavellan glared towards the door, though the bed blocked her view of him. “ _I am fine_.”

She groaned, face palming herself. She hadn’t meant to sound so rude!

 _Creators, fuck! I’m sorry, Solas—_  

“I, uh… I made breakfast, if you would like any?” 

“Yes! T— Thank you!” Lavellan said quickly, a nervous, but relieved, smile on her face. “Just give me a couple minutes to shower.” She heard Solas hum an acknowledgement on the other side of the door before walking away. Lavellan sighed, relieved, as she slumped back against the bed. 

“Everything is going to be  _fine_. Just—” she pulled her knees up in front of her, resting an elbow on one and pulling her hair out of its bun as she ran a hand through it. “ _Just fine_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvhen Translations (Translated by FenxShiral and taken from in-game):  
> Mar rodhe ir’on: You taste delicious.  
> Asha’rajain: Princess.  
> Ar lath ma, vhenan: I love you, (my) heart.  
> Vera em su tarasyl: Take me to the sky.  
> Ma nuvenin: As you wish.  
> Ma’sal’shiral: My life. Essentially, “Love of my life,” or “You are my soul’s journey.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my amazing beta, Kitzie, for beta-ing this story for me! You are amazing~ :D

She knew full well that she was being weird. She never acted like this with him before – distant, closed off, edgy – at least not since she told him to “fuck off” before slamming his own door in his face immediately upon first arriving at his studio nearly a week ago. She knew he could tell something was going on; whenever she would apologize for snapping or even just walked off, he had a look – one that made her skin burn. It was such a mesmerizing mixture of emotions – quizzical, confused, intrigued – and it was entirely endearing, no matter how much she tried to convince herself that it shouldn’t be. Add to that the look he gave her when he fished her credit card from her hand as she got ready to pay for the paint – a smug, wolfish smirk as he insisted ‘ _I’m_  paying’. If she had been in the right state of mind, she would have fought back, would even have tried to climb on the man to reach her card again, but her mind chose that precise moment to add a new vision to her repertoire of sinful mind-torture as she watched Solas pay for the paints — and  _oh_! Her visions!

Her mind  _refused_  to let her forget them, forcing her to relive new memories from past lives whenever she finally believed she had managed to get over the last. She had  _three_  in the car ride to the store and  _five_  as they headed to her apartment. It was slowly starting to spiral out of control. She was running out of excuses as to why she would suddenly jerk or moan, and by the sixth time –  thankfully when they arrived safely at her apartment – he decided to finally question her.

“What's going on, Ellana?” Solas asked, shutting the apartment door behind him once he set the paints down. Lavellan nervously chewed on her bottom lip, trying to drag out the moment by removing her scarf and coat as she walked over to the thermostat. She set it on 75 degrees before throwing her things on the couch. 

“Ellana—”

“I… I can't tell you — I mean, I can but,” she stuttered, unable to formulate a coherent response past the swollen lump of nerves in her throat. She couldn't even turn to meet his gaze, her face heating at the merest recollection of her visions. While she was distracted by her thoughts, Solas came up behind her and she shivered, digging her teeth into her lip again to suppress a moan. She internally cursed –  he wasn’t even touching her, and even so, she had such a strong reaction to him. Solas pulled his own coat off and threw it on top of Lavellan's before removing his long sleeved shirt, leaving only the brown, bleach and paint stained shirt he used for painting he had under it on.

“ _Ellana_ ,” he placed a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to turn and meet his gaze. A sting of electricity shot through each of them from that one touch, much like when they first shook hands. Lavellan released her breath sharply, blurting out a colorful curse in her native tongue before looking up at Solas.

“My visions, okay? They – they're making me  _see_  shit that I–” more colorful curses escaped her lips, then, effectively halting the conversation. Her cheeks flushed when Solas’ hand lightly squeezed her shoulder. Creators, she didn’t just want a measly squeeze of a shoulder; she didn’t want any space between them  _at all_. If she had her way, he would press her against the wall, make her squirm with pleasure and make these visions real once again. She wanted him to do to her what his past lives had been doing to her own for centuries.

She  _wanted_  him, and that scared her.

Lavellan shut her eyes tightly and shook her head, temporarily forcing those thoughts from her mind. They weren't ready for that, no matter what her subconscious was telling her –  _they were **not**  ready_. She felt a wave of pleasure hit her as she looked back up at Solas, his shining crystal orbs looking at her with such care and compassion. Lavellan huffed in annoyance, shutting her eyes and letting her head fall forward.

Creators, she wanted this man – truth be told, she’d  _always_  wanted him, even before that day in the freezing cold car.

“Like what?” Solas captured her chin between his fingers, forcing her to look back up at him. “Ellana, why didn’t you tell me you have been having more visions?”

Lavellan’s eyes softened as she looked at him. He was clearly worried, his face mirroring the same expression he had worn when he first saw her beaten, broken and scared in her apartment nearly a week ago. But she could see there was more hiding behind his eyes than just worry; emotions of regret, rage and sadness were masked under the surface. Her lips curled in a small, somber smile, knowing exactly what he was thinking.

_Another thing he thinks he could have prevented._

“Talk to me.  _Please_.”

A few scenarios of what could happen popped into her mind, the worst being him rejecting her, but she knew that would never happen. He was hers, and she was his, as undeniably made to fit as the yin and yang. And thinking about it all – how they got here in the first place and what deep and raw emotion he kept looking at her with, just because she was acting a little strange – made her realize that this was normal, at least for them. If her visions of her past lives were any indication, they had always struggled. War, arranged marriages, rival clans, failed assassination attempts – Solas’ lie was possibly the safest way they’d ever met, and she knew that they would be able to get past it.

She could trust him.

Lavellan took a deep breath and nodded.  “Okay. I—”

_Fen’Harel pulled Lavellan’s back flush against him, grabbing her jaw roughly and capturing her lips in a rough kiss while using his other hand to slid two fingers into her wet, dripping cunt. He chuckled darkly against her lips, moving down to her neck and biting down as he listened to her gasps and moans. He bit down even harder when he felt her rocking her hips against his clothed erection._

_His movements were quick and rough, driving in and hitting Lavellan perfectly each time. Fen’Harel pressed his thumb against her clit mercilessly, rubbing in little circles as he thrust his fingers back and forth._

_“Come for me, vhenan,” he whispered, trailing his tongue painfully slow up her neck before nipping at her earlobe. “I want to hear you scream my name.”_  

Lavellan covered her mouth, her head falling forward to lean against Solas’ chest as she moaned. Her other hand fisted against his chest, his shirt in her grip. Her eyes were glued to the ground between them, unable to bring herself to look up at his face. She became vaguely aware that his hand had tightened on her shoulder while she was consumed in the vision, but was too shaken to act on it. The air between them was thick with tension, and Lavellan was at a loss for what to do. She was prepared to stand there with Solas for the rest of eternity, neither looking at the other, until one of them died. She didn't even feel embarrassed or mortified, no – she was  _scared_. Terrified of what was going to happen when she looked up at him. There was no doubt in her mind that he now knew exactly what her visions had been about recently; one doesn't hear a moan like that and not think those thoughts. Solas let go of her shoulder, his hand gliding along her arm until his hand was over her own on his chest.

“Ellana,” Solas whispered her name, lightly rubbing his thumb over her healing knuckles. “Look at me.”

Lavellan brought her head up slowly with a sigh, forcing herself to met his gaze. His thumb continued to lightly rub her knuckles as his other moved around her waist, pulling her against him.

“So,” Solas smirked down at her. “ _Sex_  visions?” Lavellan’s face heated as Solas’ voice turned smug, matching that of his past life. Lavellan groaned, letting her head fall back down against his chest yet again.

“On a scale of one to ten, how amazing was I?” Lavellan pushed Solas away then, her face stained in embarrassment as she went to grab a paint bucket. Solas followed close behind her, picking up the paint rollers and trays he had bought as well. She could positively feel his smugness radiate off of him and, for some odd reason, she was glad. At least he was turning this horribly mortifying topic into somewhat of a joke, and it made her feel better. She looked over her shoulder at him as she stood in the doorway of her room and watched him start to pull the plastic off of the paint rollers. 

“Hey, Fen’Harel,” Lavellan tilted her head as Solas looked up, a smile on her face as she watched his own face twist in confusion. She had to admit, it felt odd saying his name without anger fueling her tone. She liked the way it sounded when she said it, though – not like her past lives at all. Different;  _real_. She blushed, realizing he was waiting for her to speak and quickly cleared her throat. 

“I’d give you an eleven,” she couldn’t help but snicker as his entire body reddened in surprise and bewilderment. “Not so cocky now, are we, Fenny-boy?” She smirked triumphantly before turning to move into her room.

“Hey,  _Lavellan_ ,” he called after her as soon as she was out of sight, his voice oozing the confidence and smugness she had previously only ever heard in her visions. “You were a twelve.”

That smug, confident voice rang through her ears again after her paint cans had tumbled from her hands, crashing loudly to the floor and landing on top of the already laid out tarp with loud, heavy thuds. “Not so cocky now, are we, Princess?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finals weeks guys! :D And that means my eyes are focused more on photoshop and aesthetic collages instead of writing (which I do apologize for). Life is getting pretty hectic but I, at least, have nearly a month break (winter break :DDD) starting after my last night class next Wednesday. I do have some other stories (plus 3 fanfic and one drawing) I need to complete from my 400 follower giveaway on tumblr (which was over 3 months ago... I am a horrible person lol). Anyways, thank you all for being so patient. Next chapter is much longer than this one, do that's something to look forward too lol


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WINTER BREAK!!! WOOHOO!! :DDD Passed all my classes~ anyways, onto the chapter! Enjoy!

He had been taught that snooping was bad, eavesdropping was naughty, and spying was a sin; he’d also been taught that running around naked at the age of three was bad, sneaking wine from your mother’s wine cellar was naughty, and being gay was a sin – so, as he eavesdropped on the friend who butt dialed him, he already knew he wouldn’t be seeing those pearly gold gates above the clouds anyway, so why not continue sinning? Besides, she had called him; the least he could do was wait for her to realize it. 

“ _—ling paint out of my hair for weeks_ ,” Lavellan groaned, voice muffled by whatever clothing was covering the receiver. There was soft, light chuckling – Dorian could barely hear it over the sound of a chair scraping on tile.

“ _You shouldn’t have started what you couldn’t finish, Ellana_ ,” a familiar voice sounded across the speaker.

Dorian raised an eyebrow, pulling himself into a sitting position in the hotel bed. Lavellan was with Solas–

 _Of course, she’s staying with him_ , Dorian reminded himself with a shake of his head. He pulled his legs up in front of him, stretching an arm out and letting it rest atop one knee. It had been only six days since Lavellan temporarily moved in with Solas, and last he knew, the two had been speaking formally to each other. He shouldn’t really be shocked, though; by now, they had been living with each other for a few days after all, and Solas was supposedly helping her with whatever had caused her to vandalize her apartment in the first place, but still, something didn’t sit right. The way he said her name, maybe? How _normal_ it sounded? He personally didn’t like saying Lavellan’s name – he only used it when being serious, which he rarely was. Dorian furrowed his brows; he’d have to ask more about this when he spoke to her later. He looked over at the nightstand next to the bed and frowned.

**1:24 AM**

Preferably at a time where he wouldn’t be sleeping.

“ ** _You_** _started it_ ,” he heard her accuse Solas with a hiss, her voice carefree and playful. “ _And I most certainly finished it_.” 

“ _You tackling me to the ground didn’t end it, Princess—_ ” 

“ _Princess_?” Dorian whispered in disbelief and furrowed his brows, listening more intently on the conversation.

 _“—If anything, you made it **worse**_.”

Lavellan snorted and shifted on her chair, causing Dorian to cringe from the loud rustling and brusquely remove the phone from his ear.  He still managed to catch the next sentence as he tentatively brought it back to listen again. “ _I have two handprints on my ass that say otherwise, Fenny-boy_.”

 _Such odd nicknames_ , Dorian mused, but then realization hit him. Two handprints on her ass – he _imprinted_ her with _paint_! Before he could think further, Solas spoke.

“ _You made the most delightful sound_ ,” Solas suddenly sounded closer than before.

He heard bottles hit a surface. Dorian pursed his lips. The two were drinking beer perhaps, or vintage soda.

“ _Who knew such a girlish shriek could come from your lips_ ,” the elf’s voice continued before Lavellan snorted, followed by more rustling and the sound of a bottle sliding against wood. 

The background noise muffled her next sentence.

Dorian picked up on the use of ‘Fenny-boy’ once again, as well as the words ‘made’ and ‘not’. Then she gasped, and her end of the line went completely silent. Dorian’s free hand gripped the sheet in anticipation. The silence spanned on too long for his liking, and for a split second he was worried that either the call had ended or he had suddenly been caught eavesdropping. Yet, he knew otherwise; no call ended noise sounded and Lavellan wasn’t hissing at him through the phone.

What was going on, then, and _why_ was he so interested in this? It was maddening! He felt like he was listening to a soap opera, except this was a _good_ one, a _juicy_ one and a positively _scandalous_ one if Fen’Harel ever ended up making a sudden appearance in Lavellan’s life after all. That would definitely complicate whatever she was doing with Solas at the moment. Focusing on the sudden silence was, however, more important than imagining what Fen’Harel would have done if he caught Lavellan and Solas in each other’s arms, or so Dorian thought at the moment.

Dorian was getting antsy; he wanted to yell for one of them to say something already! This was not the kind of awkward silences he was accustomed to. This was one of those ‘who will fuck it up or seal the deal’ silences, and someone had better _not_ fuck it up. Knowing his friend, however he was betting on his friend to manage, somehow.

_Peaches, I swear to the Maker if you don’t make a move on this man…_

Dorian shifted on the bed, positively beside himself as more rustling noises came through the phone.

“ _I can’t wait to hear what other noises I can conjure from those sinful lips of yours_ ,” the man’s voice all but purred through the phone before the line fell silent once more. Dorian could _feel_ Lavellan’s sudden stiffness from Solas’ words – void, Dorian was positive that Lavellan’s face was as red as a tomato at this point. She never had seemed to be any good with flirting – he remembered how awkward her and Cullen use to be. Their flirting had been adorable once upon a time, but as the relationship spanned, it became more irritating and obnoxious until about a month before the break-up.

What happened next pulled Dorian out of his reverie, and completely threw him off.

Laughing.

 _Lavellan’s_ laughing.

Dorian hadn’t heard this specific laugh in years. Light, airy, relaxed. It was a laugh he thought Lavellan forgot she could even make.

Her laughter rang through his phone – a part of him wished it wouldn’t end because he missed that Lavellan, desperately wanted her to be like she was when they first met once again – and Solas’ groan of annoyance, one Dorian was ever so use to hearing by now, followed shortly.

“ _You were so much better at this when you were high on Nyquil_.”

 _Nyquil?_ Dorian wondered with furrowed brows. He remembered Lavellan mentioning Solas getting a cold a few weeks ago. Had he called Lavellan and tried to—

“I don’t want to think about that,” Dorian sighed quietly, rubbing his temple. His hand fell down his face as Solas chuckled.

“ _Just drink, Ellana_.”

Dorian was about to hang up, figuring it to be a complete lost cause to continue listening, when Lavellan spoke once more. She spoke in elvhen – words he hadn’t heard her speak before – but how she _said_ them to Solas, so confident, smug and alluring, made even him blush a tinge. The phone went silent once more, but this was not at all reminiscent of the previous awkward silence.

This was a ‘who was going to make the first move’ kind of silence – and from the lack of the sounds he was hearing, he figured Lavellan was waiting for Solas to make the first move. Dorian didn’t know this side of Lavellan, and he _definitely_ didn’t want to, but something in the back of his mind was telling him to keep listening – the curious side of him just had to know what was going to happen! Oh, Maker, he should have ignored the call! Should have hung up when he thought this conversation was a lost cause!

“ _Well_ ,” Lavellan spoke once again, her voice back to the playfulness he was not used to hearing. There was some shuffling and more clanking of bottles. “ _I am going to go take a shower, salvage whatever I can of my hair_.”

“ _That would be wise, yes_ ,” Solas spoke quickly, his voice defensive, low. Lavellan must have already moved further away.

“ _Are you sure you don’t want to take the bed tonight?_ ” Lavellan spoke. “ _I don’t mind—_ ”

“ _No_.”

There was another pause, and Dorian frowned, hearing bottles being set down once again on her side of the phone call.

“ _So… I’ll see you in the morning?_ ”

“ _Of course. On nydha, Ellana_.”

There was a long pause. 

“ _On nydha, Solas_.” 

And with that he hung up, knowing that this truly _was_ the end of a very confusing conversation, or at least for him. He looked back at his phone and wondered if he should call Lavellan back. She hadn’t sounded like herself at the end.

* * *

Lavellan made her way into the kitchen, eyes blurred by tears she refused to let fall. The day had been perfect – too perfect. Solas and her had made light of their sex visions, had paint fights after he imprinted her butt – and ruined her favorite pair of sweatpants in the process – continues with playful teasing once they returned to his home, drank a little, teased a bit more, and just relaxed. Just like a normal couple. Yet, once she called it a night and fell asleep, nightmares plagued her. A vision, one where she and her land were under attack by the very man she had trusted and had promised herself to in that lifetime: Fen’Harel. She had woken up, shivering and covered in a cold sweat, before she could see his lifeless eyes, before she could translate the elvhen words – words that were lost to her when she woke. She was awake before she took the final blow.

She walked through the kitchen and robotically pulled a mug from the dish rack as she passed by it, moving to the sink to fill it with water. She needed to shake the dream – that horrible, Creator-forsaken, fucking horrible dream – off her mind. She shook her head frantically, as if the physical action would help. How could she have done that in a past life? To her soul mate? To Solas? _How_? She had had more dreams than she could count involving death. Dreams of him killing her, her killing him, them killing together; but not once since knowing the truth about Solas. Everything about this dream was wrong, screamed falseness in her mind. Before, he had been just a blurred out face, sometimes with hair, sometimes with body tattoos and scars, and sometimes with shining armor, but now? Now he was so, so much more. He was the man sleeping in the other room, the man who helped her – life after life. The man who was spontaneous, who bought her paint, who dealt with her bullshit, who taught her archery, pet her hair, read her books, sang her to sleep, made her cry, laugh… even smile.

 _How_ could she have done this to him? What had happened in that lifetime to cause her to do this? Or for him to attack her home?

Lavellan bit her lip, forcing her eyes shut as the image of them worked its way back into her mind – cold, crystal, dying eyes staring up at her, her holding the dagger to his throat, refusing to listen to his please, screaming at him, yelling—

_“Ir abelas...” Fen’Harel fought once again, struggling to keep the blade from his throat, his palm gripping Lavellan’s wrist. Her entire arm was straining to keep its target with Fen’Harel’s growing power. His lips spoke lies, his eyes betrayed the power hungry monarch he truly was – manipulating her, judging her, thinking her a fool—_

_“Don’t you dare!” she hissed, refusing to let tears fall. “You lied — Fen’Harel **always** lies—”_

_“Not about how he feels—”_

_“Fuck your feelings!” Lavellan cried, her shoulders shaking. “Fuck your narcissistic arse, Fen’Harel! All you’ve ever done was to care about **yourself**. How could you do this? To my people — to **our** people? To —  to **me**?”_

_Fen’Harel stared up at Lavellan as she finally succumbed to her tears, and his grip slowly loosened with each of her cries. His lips thinned as Lavellan’s body shook on top of his own, wrecked with sobs._

_“I trusted you… foolishly, I **trusted** you! I should have known! I should have…” Lavellan looked at him through tear-filled eyes, the dagger creeping steadily closer to his throat as his resistance lessened. She watched as his face gradually relaxed. He was giving up, or so she believed. He deserved this, he knew it, and he was giving up. She watched as his lips parted – lips she stole kisses behind pillars from, ones that spoke such alluring words that would make a maiden blush, ones that held two scars she had come to love the feel of against her own lips. Those same lips were distracting her now, the slight gap between them holding infinite promises and reminding her of sweet, whispered nothings. Of course, it was always nothing. Nothing lasting. Nothing real. None of it was real – nothing was ever real with him – just a game, a game in which she was nothing but a pawn. It was always a game with Fen’Harel._

**_Always_ ** _._

_He knocked her from her thoughts, his free hand coming to rest against her cheek, brushing away the stray hairs that stuck to her blood and sweat-soaked face. “Ar lath ma, vhen—”_

_“Dread Wolf take you, **liar**!” she cut him off with a piercing scream, tears falling from her face as she pulled her arm from him. She stabbed down—_  

Lavellan took a sharp breath as two arms wrapped around her waist, knocking her from her vision. Solas pulled her back tightly against him, his arm keeping her steady as she shook. Her body was weak, her vision blurred from the tears that had, unnoticed, begun to pour down her face.

“Don’t think about it,” his voice was barely above a whisper and he was leaning his forehead against the top of her head. Lavellan’s ears twitched at the sound of his voice – hoarse, tired, sullen. Had she woken him up? She watched Solas’ hand as he turned off the faucet before taking the overflowing mug out of her grasp and setting it down in the sink. She blinked as her vision continued to blur, suddenly acutely aware of the tears falling as Solas spoke.

“It was just a dream, Ellana. It isn’t real.” 

She wanted to say it was, wanted to tell him what she had done, but she was too tired, too confused and anxious to speak. Her body relaxed against his, his arm moving back around her waist, her own arms moving to lay over his. Her tears continued to fall silently as she stared at the wall ahead, her body eventually shaking less from sheer exhaustion.

“ _Breathe_.”

She didn’t know if it was a command for her or a reminder for himself, but as soon as she took a breath, he did as well. Her lungs burned as she inhaled; she hadn’t realized she had stopped breathing, and her shoulders slumped as she let out her trembling breath.

 _Just a dream. He’s alive. I didn’t kill him. Fen’Harel is alive and we’re okay – I’m okay._  

Solas’ grip tightened around her waist as he took another deep breath, moving his head to let her own fall back against his chest. He looked down at her, moving a hand to her elbow and lightly tracing random shapes against her skin. Lavellan’s eyes grew heavy as they continued to stand there in silence. She enjoyed the silence, hadn’t realized she needed this – to be in his arms and just breathe, not worrying about anything but calming herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done this, stood in comfortable silence with someone else and just let her worries slowly fade away. Lavellan shut her eyes as she took another long breath, her body leaning back against Solas’ as she calmed.

“Solas…” Lavellan tilted her head up to look at Solas above her. He looked down at her, and she realized his eyes looked equally tired as she felt. His lips were pressed together in a thin line as he watched her move around to face him, still in his arms. She looked at his chest and hesitantly brought a hand up, resting over his heart. She let out a breath, the edge of her lip twitching into a small smile when she felt his heart beat.

“You’re okay,” she ran her hand slowly up his chest to his neck, fingers dancing around his skin, checking for any wounds. Solas removed a hand from around her waist to capture hers at his neck.

“I am,” he said, returning her hand to his chest and resting his own over it. “It was just a dream, nothing to worry about.”

“That was more than a dream,” Lavellan insisted and looked back down at his chest. “I _killed_ you—”

“I am alive—”

“ _Now_ ,” she frowned, shaking her head. “But then? I… I _murdered_ you! I—”

“Ellana,” Solas captured her chin between his fingers, forcing her to look up at him.

“I am alive,” he leaned down, resting his forehead against hers. Lavellan watched him force a smile on his face to reassure her; it did everything but. “It was a past life, not now; you needn’t worry. I am unharmed.”

Lavellan’s brows knitted together in confusion, a piece of her unable to believe that he was here alive with her and that he was okay. She moved her hands to rest on his chest once again, feeling again for his heartbeat. She felt it, thought this should reassure her, but something still wasn’t sitting right with her. She pressed her hands more firmly against his chest, waiting for another heartbeat when she felt the dampness of his shirt. Lavellan’s eyes moved up, then, and she noted the small beads of sweat on the sides of Solas’ neck, the drenched edges of his collar. She moved her hands back to his neck, fingers wiping some cold sweat away. He shivered against her fingertips and she cursed at herself for not noticing it before. 

He had had the vision as well, together with her, and he was more focused on taking care of her than taking care of his own state of mind. More silent tears pooled in Lavellan’s eyes as she continued to mentally chastise herself. She hadn’t even thought to consider Solas’ words, hadn’t put a second thought to why _he_ sounded strange because she was too focused on herself.

“Are you okay?” Lavellan moved her head to meet Solas’ gaze, capturing his face in her palms as he stood straight. He opened his mouth to repeat his previous words, but she was having none of it. “You had the vision too and… are _you_ okay?”

Solas gave a small shrug, “I will be fine, it is you—”

“No, no, no, _not_ me, _you_ —” Lavellan tilted her head, frowning. “Are you okay, _ma’lath_?”

The word fell from her lips before she realized, and her worry grew when Solas stared down at her with slowly widening eyes. It scared Lavellan how easily the word seemed to fall from her lips, how easy it felt to call him such an endearing term when she was still not sure where they stood with each other – even after the enjoyable day they had shared together – but right now, at this moment, she could not dwell on it. Solas was in need of her, just as she had been in need of him only moments prior.

“You…” he caught himself, shaking his head slightly before continuing. “I am better.”

He smiled, then – _his_ smile, his real smile that she had only seen once before, when they first met. There was no force, no strain in his muscles, no twitching of his lips to show any effort or that this was anything but a natural, loving smile. A smile that calmed her nerves, relaxed her muscles. Before she knew it, her own lips formed a small smile in response, unable to do any different because his was so contagious. Where sharp, bloody, edgy teeth marred her visions, blunt, bright pearly whites shined in the darkness. The scarred lips in his past life, once smirking, mocking her with malice, telling lies to feed his plans, told nothing but truths, now, whispered nothing but reassurance and love, showed nothing but happiness with this smile. Lavellan lightly brushed her thumb against the edge of his lip, where in her dreams two scars shot up and receded into his hairline, but in this lifetime there was nothing. Nothing but untainted flesh, soft, clear, clean; nothing to remind herself of the version of him she had killed, he was nothing like that version. 

He _cared_. He wasn’t using her – not like others, both past and present, have. Solas cared about her, more than her other lovers had, and he’d proven that in the past week more than others had the entire time she was with them.

His lips moved against her thumb, Lavellan’s eyes unable to look away from them as he spoke. “Much better.” 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so so soooooo sorry that it's taken me forever to get this chapter out D: Ir abelas, falon's [broken heart emoji] Thank you all for putting up with me though. Chapter 20 should be up within the next week. Thank you all for sticking with me and get ready for some fluff this chapter :3

Lavellan silently watched Solas from across the futon as he sketched in his notepad. His cellphone lay on his stomach, cringe-worthy elevator music playing from the device as Leliana kept him waiting on hold once again. The mysterious woman had called nearly a second after her and Solas’ little _moment_ in the kitchen an hour ago. Solas had reluctantly pulled away from Lavellan, knowing very well who it was. He said she could stay up with him if she wished, and she happily took him up on that offer. 

She curled onto one side of the futon while Solas took the other half, leaning back against the wall with his legs stretched out. Lavellan could just about see the small doodles he was creating, if you could even call them such. They were like works of art. Wolves in full detail, trees, vines and elves, with and without vallaslin; she’d seen Solas’ drawings around the studio, but she couldn’t help but wonder how long he spent on those framed masterpieces if these little works of art were nothing more but five minute doodles. She knew Solas was talented – the Fresco told her as much – but how he could create such mindless, time-passing doodles look like he’d taken hours on each and every detail was remarkable. She couldn’t help but wonder why he had chosen to work on finding people’s soul mates instead of becoming an artist. She shouldn’t be complaining though. If it hadn’t been for him picking this job, she probably would have never met him. She would still be going from person to person in hopes of settling down, because she would still believe that **_Fen’Harel_** didn’t exist.

 _But he does_ , she reminded herself, forcing her eyes away from the notepad and to Solas’ face. _He’s real and this is real. You deserve this._

She couldn’t and didn’t want to argue with the little voice in her head anymore. How many nights had she wasted arguing with that voice that she didn’t deserve to be happy? That she was _okay_ settling for people she knew weren’t the one?

The elevator music finally stopped, and for a split second she was relieved, relaxing against the pillow. That is, until the music came back, even louder and more distorted than before. Solas shut his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall with an audible ‘thump’. He picked up the phone and took it off speaker before looking over at Lavellan.

“ _Ir abelas_ , Ellana. I am sure this is not what you had in mind when I—,” he fell silent and looked back at his phone, the blasting elevator still audible even off speaker. “After the night you’ve had, I’m sure you would much rather be sleeping than listening to this.”

“You had the same night,” Lavellan muffled a yawn into his pillow. “It’s only fair.” 

“Ellana—”

“It isn’t a big deal, Solas,” Lavellan offered him a smile. “Just continue drawing. Listening to the music is worth watching you stick your tongue out in concentration.” 

“I do not—”

“You do and it’s quite adorable,” Lavellan laughed and Solas lightly shoved her thigh, the tips of his ears painted red. “And that look you have right now! _Oh_ , I wish I could draw this moment. Your face is—”

“ _Ellana_ ,” Solas warned, his lips involuntarily twitching into a smile. Lavellan smiled back, wrapping her arms around the pillow and hiding half her face in it. Solas watched her, his ears twitching before he shifted on the futon to face her. He placed the cell next to his thigh on the futon before flipping to the next page in his notebook.

Lavellan raised a brow questioningly. “Solas?”

“Don’t move,” he smirked behind his notebook. “ _You_ may not be an artist, but I am.”

Lavellan furrowed her brows, confused. “W—Wait, you aren’t—”

“I am.”

“Solas—” 

“I will be drawing you sooner or later, _ma’lath_ ,” Solas looked up from the notebook when Lavellan took a sharp breath. Their eyes met and Lavellan had forgotten the tension that built between them before Leliana called. The entire scene played through her head, and she felt the embarrassment set in once again.

_Ma’lath…_

She couldn’t believe how the word just slipped out, with what ease he used it — but Solas had deliberately said it. Did that mean he didn’t mind? That he _loved_ her, too?

“Ellana?” Solas raised a brow, the pencil pausing over the notebook as he waited for her answer. Lavellan’s cheeks puffed out slightly, her face tinting a shade darker as she rested her cheek back down against the pillow, defeated.

“Just – make me look…” Lavellan drifted off and shifted her gaze to the phone, watching the seconds pass as the elevator music continued to play. “… _Pretty_.”

“You do that all on your own, Ellana,” Solas spoke with a smile. Lavellan snorted, returning her eyes to Solas. She silently watched him for a solid five minutes before his tongue slowly slipped out, his head tilting to the side as he focused on the task at hand. Lavellan covered her smile with the blanket, silently wishing she had her phone so she could have proof that he did stick his tongue out. Lavellan studied Solas, watching the way his nose scrunched up when he made a mistake, how his ears would twitch when he looked back up at her and met her gaze, how the corner of his lip twitched when he approved of a detail in his artwork, how after every laugh or chuckle he would silently snort.

 _Shit_ , Lavellan felt like she had been doused in water as Solas’ lips pulled into a knowing smile. His ears twitched under her gaze, eyes focused on her. Lavellan slowly brought the blanket up to her chin to hide her blush. His smile turned into a smirk and that was when she realized — he knew what she was thinking! Lavellan’s eyes widened when he went back to his drawing. She shut her eyes, sinking deeper under the blanket.

Shit, shit, _shit_ … she had it _bad_ for this man.

The elevator music suddenly cut off, a few scratching noises sounding over the line before Leliana’s voice appeared. Ellana peaked out from under the blanket as Solas picked up the phone, balancing it between his shoulder and ear. He continued his drawing as he spoke, shifting back and forth between pages to jot down a few names on a separate page from Ellana’s portrait.

Twenty minutes later, he said his goodbyes.

“Always a pleasure, Leliana,” he ended the call soon after and refocused his efforts on drawing Lavellan. 

Solas leaned over the edge of the futon and tossed his phone onto the coffee table. “I am unable to see your vallaslin in the dim light, Ellana. I hope that is alright?”

He moved back to his upright position, catching a short glimpse of Lavellan’s shut eyes under the blanket.

“And you are asleep,” he shook his head, smiling. “I shouldn’t have expected any different.”

“Mmm… n—no, I’m…” Lavellan stirred, her hand moving to her eyes and trying to rub the sleep from them. Solas moved to the edge of the futon, lightly tapping her leg while placing the notepad and pencil on the coffee table.

“Move over,” Solas stood and helped Ellana stretch out fully across the futon before he lay down next to her.

“Usually,” Lavellan mumbled sleepily, “My suitors have to bring me a big rock and know five ways to make me smile before I let them sleep next to me.” 

“I can name five right now, if that would satisfy your needs.”

Lavellan tilted her head up, tired, golden eyes meeting playful, crystal blue eyes. 

“I’m going to regret this,” Lavellan shut her eyes, lips giving away a smirk as she let Solas pull her against his chest with a chuckled.

“I don’t think you will, _ma’lath_ ,” Lavellan hummed happily, shutting her eyes and snuggling against him. 

 _Ma’lath_. That was _definitely_ a thing that makes her smile. She subconsciously counted that as one of the five, whether or not Solas reached five or named it as one.

“One,” Solas mumbled, slowly running his hand up and down her back. “Presenting you with _peaches_.”

“ _Ah_ ,” Lavellan tiredly laughed, “you know me too well.” 

“That I do, Ellana. Two,” Solas paused, shutting his eyes as he thought of the next thing. “Snow.”

Lavellan hummed, hiding her smile. “Vision?” 

“And a hope for the near future,” he commented smoothly, looking down at Lavellan. “Winter _is_ coming.”

“Three?” she shifted her head to look up at him with a raised brow.

“Sweets.” 

“Four?”

“Me.”

Lavellan paused. “You sound rather confident.”

“You wouldn’t be lying in my arms if I couldn’t make you smile.”

Lavellan narrowed her eyes at him, pursing her lips before humming, “I _guess_.”

“Five?” Solas offered, his hand stopping to rest on the small of her back.

“Five,” she agreed with a curt nod. 

Solas slid his hand up from the small of her back, gliding over her shoulders, ghosting over her neck and finally coming to cup her cheek in his palm. “This.”

He leaned in, lightly brushing his nose against hers, watching her eyes for any hesitation. When he saw none, he again moved his hand to capture her chin between his fingers and tilted her face up to close the distance to kiss her. It was a slow, amazing kiss that had Lavellan gripping Solas’ shirt like a lifeline. Unlike their first kiss they had in his cramped car – not knowing who Solas truly was; confused, slightly annoyed after walking around in rain and freezing weather – this kiss felt like a new beginning for them. It was soft, warm, took her breath away, but at the same time, somehow gave her life. She felt safe, secure, _complete_. Pressed against Solas, molding against him like a perfect puzzle piece, she knew she was home. Solas was her future, her significant other, her soul mate.

“ _Wow_ ,” Lavellan breathed when Solas pulled away, her eyes barely open to see the full, satisfied smirk on his lips from that state he put her in.

“I—I, I mean, I,” Lavellan shook her head and cleared her throat, smile evident on her face and red tint on her cheeks. “I would love to go to sleep like that every night – _and_ wake up to kisses like those, every day. Lazy, sloppy kisses are my weakness.”

“Did you just call my kiss ‘lazy’ and ‘sloppy’?” Solas raised a brow, his own lips mirroring the smile on Lavellan’s face. He had managed to make her smile at least.

“It’s alright,” she kissed his chin before snuggling up against him, already falling back asleep. “Those kind of kisses… are meant in these types of situations, Solas. _Perfect_ first kiss.” 

“…We’ve kissed before, Ellan—”

“Shhh, _ma’lath_ ,” Lavellan’s fingers covered Solas’ mouth, fingers slowly falling away from his lips as she continued speaking. “ _Sleep_ … we’ll speak in the morning…”

He chuckled, unable to disagree with the sleepy elf. He pressed his lips on top of her head, mumbling a small goodnight as she drifted off.


	20. PSA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have not forsaken thee.

Apologies my loyal and wonderful readers.

I have not forgotten you or this fic. Life has just been throwing me a lot of shade lately and I am barely holding together. I am currently working on upcoming chapters but they will not be uploaded for some time, which I apologize _profusely_ for.

I’m in a bit of a crisis so… yeah, there’s that…

With that… I think it is safe to say that this fic will be on hiatus until further notice. 

I’m going to try and make little drabbles about this fic AU (with Varric/Cass, The Hawke Twins and their loves, Sera/Adaar, Josie/Blackwall, Dorian/Adaar, Solavellan [of course] and so forth).

 **I will be returning to this fic** , but for now I just need to not stress out about anything (which is freaking hard because College demands I be stressed out). One-shots with the pairings of this fic will be posted when I can write them. They’ll all be mushed together in a fic (because uploaded them in their own stories causes me to think of actual summaries, which is turn causes stress [boo]).

But, yes. **I am _not_ gone. I have _not_ forsaken _you_ or _this story_.** I’m just dealing with shite that’s out of my control and proving to be difficult to deal with.

**—Vanny**


	21. PSA// 2

**Update** :

This fic is no longer in progress. The reasons vary from too personal to 'thats seriously why you're not continuing?' And the answer is yes. All I'm willing to give at the current moment is that the fandom has reached a level of such toxicity that for my own well being I'm distancing myself from anything involving it. Do I really wanna never continue this fic again? ...I honestly have no idea; but for right now, my answer is yes. Too much bullshit, too much hate, too much -phobia, too much racism -- I literally have an anxiety attack whenever I come across stuff like that now. I just can't deal with the level of arrogance and assholery in the fandom anymore. 

I do apologize for keeping you waiting this long to hear  _something_ (and extremely sorry for giving you false hope), but I'm not sorry for putting my own well being first.

If anyone wants to continue this fic (idk if thats a thing but w/e) you are more than welcome to. I still have unfinished chapters, the meeting of some of the S/O's (extremely ooc first drafts) and a doc with some outlined chapters. If you do want to see what I had planned, at least for closure of the fic or something, then just send an ask to my  ** _[tumblr](http://vanguardpaladinkeith.tumblr.com/)_** with your questions.

 **Thank you to _all_ the loyal readers I had**...

Sorry I wasn't a loyal writer.

_**—Vanny** _


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